


Too Old For This

by dogfighter3000



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Age Regression/De-Aging, Gore, Infantilism, Other, Slight Violence, Toddler Dean, Toddler Sam, Toddlers, What a fic, add more as the story goes on, not major violence so there isn't a tag but uh, oh boy, please ignore me, there is a little bit of gore, this is just warnings so, this is uh, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-10-04 09:43:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10274018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogfighter3000/pseuds/dogfighter3000
Summary: I suppose all of the Winchester's most memorable hunts are the ones that seem basic and routine but eventually take a turn for the worse. This time the situation seems way over the two brothers heads and leaves them feeling absolutely helpless while one of their favorite angels tries his hardest to find a way to fix this.





	1. Wicked Witch of the West

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING!  
> there's a li'l bit of violence/gore-ish stuff/medical procedures. I don't go into too much detail on it, but i figured better be safe than sorry.  
> (also usual Winchester junk like cursing, alcohol, and sexual innuendo)

Lungs burning and legs pumping furiously Dean Winchester weaves through the trees with a sizable gash leaking from his side and there’s only a single thought running through his head.

 

_God, I’m getting too old for this._

Risking a glance back he spots the wild blur of shoulder-length hair bobbing close by, relieved that Sammy is still keeping up. He continues the sprint despite the effort being pointless when they finally catch a glimpse of the witch they’ve been running from. With a frustrated groan, Dean threw his head back. They’ve been doing this for nearly twenty minutes and the hunter was starting to tire.

 

“Sammy,” He barked, “Go and find your gun, I’ll handle the wicked witch of the west over here.” The blonde panted, glad to take the time to catch his breath while he watched his brother run off. Sam had his gun hit out of his hand back there and they had been too caught up with this freak show to go back and retrieve it. Once he was out of sight he focused back onto the witch they were supposed to be hunting. It was an ordinary, routine witch hunt. Or at least that was how it was supposed to be before everything went to shit.

 

\----

 

“Are you sure there was no foul play involved in this at all?”

 

“You’re…joking? Right?” The doctor said disbelievingly, looking between the two ‘federal agents’ like he was getting pranked. “That guy choked on his own tongue and this one choked on beer. Unless somebody forcefully shoved his tongue down his throat or drowned him in beer and neither of them fought back, no. This isn’t foul play.” Setting his clipboard down on the metal table next to the nearest body he squinted at the two. “Why on Earth would you even ask?”

 

“Just protocol. These things have got to be thorough,” That’s Sam talking this time, giving a tense smile and flipping his tiny notepad shut and tucking it into his suit jacket. The doctor stood fiddling with the buttons of his lab coat like he wasn’t entirely convinced about this. “Thank you again, for letting us examine him. Give us twenty and we’ll be out of your hair.” That seems to calm the older man’s frazzled nerves and he gives a short nod and heads to the door, never quite taking his eyes off of the two brothers.

 

“Agent Robert, agent Jones. I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything you know where to find me.” And with that he was gone and Dean gave an exasperated sigh as he loosened his tie a bit.

 

“That guy seemed like a real spazz, huh?” He grinned, slipping his stuffy jacket off and rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows. Sam just rolled his eyes and grabbed the clipboard that had been left behind, giving them a quick once over.

 

“Ha Ha. But, seriously, this seems classic witch stuff. Who could actually manage to choke to death on their tongue?” the brunette huffs as he tosses the papers back down. “In the police reports they said he was a pretty nice guy except for how he ran his mouth way too much. His death seems much too ironic to not be related to something paranormal.”

 

“Or maybe the guy was a fucking klutz? Those things happen too Sammy.” He huffs, just wanting to be back home in the bunker and chugging booze on the couch while vegging out to the sound of whatever show he could dig up on Netflix.

 

“Alright. How about the other guy?” the younger counters, pointing his finger accusingly. “Eyewitness reports say that he wasn't just choking on his beer, he was coughing up beer. I believe one particularly descriptive lady used the phrase 'fire hose spray of Coors Light.'” Dean hesitated with his response to this one, thinking it over in his head before shrugging with a groan.

 

“Okay, got me on that one,” he admits. “But if this is witch-y shit, what’s connectin’ ‘em? They don’t seem to have much in common. A blabbermouth and an alcoholic?”

 

“That’s what we’re here to find out. C’mon, let’s get going,” With that they packed up and got going back to the motel.

 

~~~~

 

Adorned in their regular clothes they head over to the bar near to their motel surprised to see it’s packed and noisy as all get out. Rolling his eyes in frustration Dean sends a glare over to Sam.

 

“Looks like we’re going to get a lotta work done here. It looks like a fuckin’ frat party in there!” He whisper-shouted as they walked through the doors. From nineteen year-olds who had bought booze with fake IDs to those in their upper twenties who had already had their fair share of partying and were less enthusiastic over alcohol, the place was packed.

 

“This is good. Maybe somebody here knows a thing or two about our mystery deaths,” Sam brings up, politely smiling at some wasted girl making obscene gestures at him before trying to get the hell out of dodge. “If there’s somebody who isn’t drunk beyond belief here, that is...” He sighs. The Winchesters manage to find a relatively quiet booth near the back, the farthest table from the bar but at least it wasn’t too loud to hear your own thoughts over here. They weren’t sitting for too long when a young guy, possibly in his last year or two of college, swaggered his way over to their table.

 

“Y’all here for Danny and Mick?” He asks, flipping his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes, southern accent thick. Sam gave Dean a quick I-told-you-so smirk before turning back to the blonde and nodding his head.

 

“Aw, yeah. It’s really a shame what happened to them. But isn’t a party like this sorta…I dunno, disrespectful to the deceased?” the younger brother asked. The blonde looked confused before laughing and taking sip from the bottle gripped in his hand.

 

“Oh, yeah. I guess it’s not really all funeral-like but it’s what Mick would’a wanted. The guy was a total party animal. Would have totally gotten drunk at his own funeral,” He drawled before holding out a hand for Sam. “I’m Ryan. How do y’all know Mick and Danny?”

 

“I’m Joe. Mick was in a few of my classes back when I was in college,” Sam lied, meeting his hand and giving a firm shake. Their attention shifted to Dean who looked like he’d rather be balls deep into a beer rather than talking to this frat boy. “You’ll have to excuse my friend, Rob, he’s not a talker until after the booze.” The brunette chuckled almost nervously, reaching out a long leg to kick his grumpy older brother in the shin. With a soft hiss Dean rolled his eyes and forced a smile.

 

“It’s nice to meet y’all! Can’t say I’ve ever seen ya hangin’ ‘round the campus, though. Kinda hard to believe when ya prob’ly tower over ev'ry one ya meet,” He laughed with a charming smile. “I’m Austin. Mick’s been my bud since elementary school and we started hangin’ out with Danny a couple a’ months ago,” A small hint of something sad and unsettled flashed across his face for a moment. Something you’d miss unless you were looking for it. Or, you know, something you wouldn't see if you weren't a hunter. “Welp! I hope y’all have a good time. If ya need me, I’ll be standin’ ‘round near the bar.”

 

“Uh, actually,” Sam started, “I was hoping you could give us some of the details about what happened to Mick.” Austin’s dazzling grin and sunny demeanor were replaced by something much more cloudy. “Just because what we heard didn’t tell us much! I mean, choking on beer? Seems a little off..” Austin seemed to slump into himself as he heaved a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his shaggy locks before leaning on the table across from Sam and Dean’s booth.

 

“Yeah. The guy could drink like an animal, seems real wild that suddenly a swallow down the wrong pipe could be his endin’,” The young blonde suddenly seemed much older than the boy they had just met a second ago. “I was there when it happened. What I saw, well the cops acted like I was crazy! But I swear to the great Lord above that I know what I saw!” It was all the usual stuff the hunters had heard a million times before. “Sorry, y’all will prob’ly just call me crazy too.”

 

“Try us,” Dean finally spoke up, glad to see that if they weren’t able to order the greasiest burger on the menu and a full keg of beer that at least they could knock this case out of the way. Taking a second to collect himself Austin finished the contents of his bottle and set it on the table behind him.

 

“It was like any normal party,” he started. “We only had a beer or two and we were havin’ a good ol’ time when suddenly Mick was chokin’. Someone started slappin' his back as hard as they could to try and help him out and he finally coughed it up, but then he couldn’t stop coughin’ it up! It was insane! There was no way he had drank that much, I had been hangin’ with the guy all night, but it just kept comin’ and comin’ until he was long gone..I..” the blonde trailed off. “I know it sounds like some sort a' real crazy bull, but I swear that’s what happened.” Sam and Dean share a look before nodding slyly at each other.

 

“Oh damn, that sounds rough. I can’t imagine watching somebody go through that,” Dean muttered. “Here, why don’t we head to the bar and get another round of brews, on us.” He gives a tight smile as he stands up and Sam follows suit.

 

“Y’all two are sweet. I think I might just take ya up on that offer,” Austin smirked as he lead them over to the bar. In all honesty, the older Winchester was just itching to down something that would make him much less sober than he is right now. Once they’re all three situated with beers and it looks like the big ol’ hick is about to make them clink their bottles together for cheers, his legs buckle beneath him and he cries out. The two hunters immediately launch themselves into action, setting their drinks down so they can get to Austin’s side. “What in the dickens??”

 

The student is clutching his calf as a large red stain soaks through his jean. Another yelp rips through him and there’s another stain on his upper shoulder then another, and another, and another until the kid has multiple cuts appearing randomly.

 

“Dean! Hex bags!” Sam calls out as he rips tries to do anything to stop the bleeding. Dean tears through the bar, lifting chairs and tables and searching under the bar until he finds a familiar bag taped underneath a bar stool. He makes quick work of tearing it from its hiding place and then burning it to ash. By the time they have the situation handled, it’s utter chaos within the bar. There’s kids who are definitely underage chugging down the last contents of their drinks and bolting, others gathering around and staring in horror and confusion or drunken amazement, and the bar tender who’s frantically yelling at the dispatcher to get the cops or an ambulance here immediately.

 

“Alright, kid. Calm down, you’re safe now,” Dean sighed as he crouched down next to the two of them. Sammy had his belt wrapped around his leg as a make-shift tourniquet over the worst of the cuts on his thigh. “Damage?”

 

“Just a few cuts. Nothing we can’t handle back at the motel,” Sam reports as he is already helping a dazed Austin into a standing position with his hand wrapped around his waist.

 

“Motel? What, what about the police? Th-the hospital?” The young male slurs, looking up at the two warily, starting to doubt these guys actually knew his friends. Attempting to weakly shove himself away from the only thing keeping him standing he calls out for someone to help him out. The crowd has already dispersed seeing as all the action was over now.

 

“Calm down, buster. We’re not gonna bring you into our motel room and do somethin’ freaky to you. We’re gonna stitch you up and then ask you a few questions. That's it,” Dean explains before grabbing his half-empty beer and throwing back the rest. “You good to carry him?”

 

“Yeah I got it under control. Thanks,” The brunette mumbles as he helped Austin walk the short distance to the front of the bar and then the rest of the 2 blocks to the motel. Soon as they are safely in the room Austin collapses onto the corner of one of the beds, finally aware enough to stare at the two brothers with wide eyes, chest heaving frantically.

 

Rolling his eyes, Dean peeks through the blinds to the dark street beyond the window out of instinct. “If we wanted you dead we could have let you there to be sliced into jerky back in the bar,” he huffs only to get punched by his younger brother. “What?!” he just gets a glare in return.

 

“Excuse him, he’s been a dick all day because he doesn’t get to watch his soaps,” Sam apologizes with a tight smile before stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “I’m guessing you probably want to know what happened back there, huh?”

 

“You’re darn right I do! Just what in tarnation happened back there?” Austin is practically in hysterics, over the initial shock of nearly dying on the grimy floor of a poorly lit pub. Used to this the younger Winchester just pulled out his first aid kit and grabbed some painkillers and bandages.

 

“Patch yourself up and we’ll answer any questions you’ve got.” There was a quiet moment as the blonde looked from between the medicine to the two strangers he had gotten himself alone with.

 

“Just who in the dickens are you two? Really?” He accuses, twisting off the cap to the meds and shaking two capsules out. “Because I got the sneakin’ suspicion that y’all two don’t actually know anythin’ ‘bout my friends.”

 

“Handsome and smart, he's the whole package!” Dean jeers as he leans against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “We’re hunters and we just saved your sorry ass, a thank you would be nice.” Sam punches him again.

 

“He almost died! What is with you tonight?” Sam groaned, running a tired hand over his face. “As crazy as this may seem, you’re being hunted by something and we managed to get you out of there before whoever was after you killed you. We think what happened tonight might be related to your friends.”

 

“But they died on their own, they weren’t murdered!”

 

“Then how do you explain what happened to you tonight?” He’s quiet after that, taking a second to think about it before resigning and starting to work on covering up some of his wounds. Sam continues. “Is there anybody you know who would want to hurt you? Or hurt your friends?”

 

“No! Everybody around here’s real friendly, I can’t think up a single soul who’d wanna do me some harm,” Austin murmured, chewing on his lip nervously.

 

“Nobody? No estranged friends, old rivals? Angry exes? Sketchy people? Nothing at all?” Dean questions disbelievingly, he’s seen too much to believe there really isn’t a bad person in this whole town of hicks. The blonde suddenly looks even more distressed than before. “Austin?”

 

“Well, I…I did just happen to break it off with a sweet heart a’ mine...but you don’t think she would do that, would she?” now he was resorting to biting at his nails. “I just broke up with her a couple a’ days ago, Mick and Danny’s little bar get-together was my idea and she told me to cancel. I didn’t want to so I kept on and she broke up with me. I didn’t think much of it since she did used to date the two of ‘em...” And then all the puzzle pieces clicked together and while Austin seemed shocked Sam and Dean just exchanged a look.

 

“What’s her name?” They both ended up calling it out at the same time and the blonde was a bit taken aback by their eagerness.

 

“Mariah Smalls, why? Y’all aren’t gonna hurt her, are ya?” the hunters just gave each another look.

 

“We just want to see what’s going on with her. We’re not gonna hurt an innocent woman,” Technically it’s not a lie. Not the full truth, but Sam is alright with skirting certain truths to avoid upsetting people. “Why don’t we drop you off at your place on our way over to talk to her, alright?” Obviously tired from all the commotion tonight, the boy just pushed himself into a standing position and nodded.

 

“So, you two are sorta like FBI?” He spoke up after the first few tense moments in the car.

 

“Yeah. Sorta like the FBI,” Dean muttered. He hadn’t been too keen on him sitting in the impala with all that blood on his pants. Blood would ruin the leather. “Anything we should know about Mariah before we go and talk to her?”

 

“Not really, she’s a real sweetheart. Her mama raised her well. Only thin’ that could be li’l off-puttin’ is her room. She’s into that fancy Wicca junk that’s been real popular with teens,” You could practically hear the sound of the hunters’ eyes rolling back into their head. “Oh! That’s my house! Thanks for drivin’ me back home and savin’ my life and all that junk. You sure there ain’t anythin’ I can do for you two?” Dean could think of a large amount of cash that would be particularly nice right about then but Sam beat him to the punch.

 

“Nope! Although it’s probably best you stay in tonight, alright? It was a pretty close call today,” Austin nodded and Sam gave a quick smile and then Dean was flooring it. “Jesus, Dean. You nearly ran over him, lead-foot.” He huffed before typing the directions to Mariah’s house they had received from the boy, into his smart phone.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up and tell me where to go. I’m tired of having to sit still all day,” he whined. Sam just rolled his eyes and started pointing out where to go. A left, a right, and then straight forward for 15 miles and they came to a quaint house, the woods behind it looking ominous. “Oh, of course. Glinda lives in a creepy old house in the woods. Haven’t seen that a million times before,” Dean grumbles.

 

“Glinda?” Sam’s nose scrunched up in question.

 

“Yeah, like the witch from the Wizard of Oz?”

 

“Glinda was the good witch,” Sam rolled his eyes. “And since when do you watch the Wizard of Oz?” He snickered.

 

“Alright, shut your pie-hole,” And with that Dean climbed out of his ride, not going to acknowledge the conversation that had just taken place. The hunter popped the trunk open and lifted the hatch, propping it open with a shot gun. “Witch killing bullets?”

 

“Dean, we don’t know if she’s the witch yet. Or if what we’re even hunting is a witch,” humoring his older sibling he takes the loaded gun from him anyways. He slips it into his back pocket and looks back to the small house before them. There’s a small Toyota parked in the gravel drive way and a dim light leaking out from the kitchen window. It hardly seems like such a normal setting could house a murderer but this life had taken out all the surprise of misleading appearances. Dean joins him where Sam is standing and watching the house. Swapping a look, they head forward to the front door of the house, pebbles crunching beneath their work boots. Upon reaching the door, the brunette hesitates before finally reaching out to rap his knuckles against the door. They stand in the silence in front of the door that they’re nearly convinced nobody his home and Dean is getting antsy when they hear the deadbolt turning. The wooden door swings inward to reveal a short curvy girl with long, wavy locks framing her chubby face staring up at the two of them. She's wearing an oddly formal evening gown for being home alone.

 

“Hi! Sorry I took so long to get to the door, can’t say I was expecting visitors tonight,” she smiled politely, oddly unfazed at the fact there was two gruff men that were substantially larger than her at her door in the middle of the night while surrounded by a secluded forest. “What can I do you for?”

 

“Are you Mariah Smalls?” Dean cuts to the chase, obviously not too impressed with the girl before them. She was a good foot shorter than him which probably made Sam feel like the sasquatch he was as they stared down at her. Literally down, too. They had to let their heads hang low to look her in the eyes.

 

“This is her. Is there something you need?” Mariah repeats, voice sugary sweet and edged with something akin to wary.

 

“We’d like to talk to you about the deaths of Mick and Danny.”

 

\----

 

Cut to present where the shapely brunette stood unarmed before the aggravated hunter and his gun full of witch-killing bullets. Flipping her wavy hair over her shoulder and giggling as her cherry red lips curled into a smirk. They had asked her about the deaths and her mood immediately darkened and she slammed her door. Of course, figuring something of this sort was going to happen, the shorter hunter stuck his foot in between the door and the frame, keeping it open as Mariah bolted to her back door. One borderline Scooby-Doo villain monologues of how she killed her ex-boyfriends who had ‘wronged’ her, later and then they were busting ass through the woods after her. Dean aimed his pistol and called out to her.

 

“Alright! Cut the crap, Elphaba. Time to stop running like a coward and face the music,” He growled over to her. Mariah just continued with her increasingly annoying laughter, glancing down to the palm of her hand. “What’s so funny, huh?”

 

“Gee whiz, you really think you’re all that and a bag of chips don’t you? I could tell you were the type of guy who was real full of himself from the moment you came knocking on my door!” She asked, finally ceasing with the annoying chuckling, cocking her hip to the side. “I feel like this should take you down a notch or two.” The brunette hummed as she revealed her palm that dripped crimson onto the dead leaves blanketing the forest floor. She had carved intricate symbols into her skin and quicker than Dean could pull the trigger she yelled out a well-practiced incantation and thrust her hand towards him. With a flash of purple light, he felt himself lift off his feet and then careening into the nearest tree.

 

Hissing in pain Dean wasn’t sure whether to clutch his aching back or the throbbing cut in his side that the witch had landed on him earlier. Glancing down at himself there wasn’t anything different, he looked the same, felt the same and checking his memory quickly he hadn’t forgotten anything either. Just what the hell had she done to him?

 

“Dean!” shouted Sam as he busted through the brush to where he was crumpled down against the tree roots. “Are you okay??” he asked, gripping his elbows and helping him back up, dusting some of the dirt and leaves clinging to his outer most layer of clothing.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. She just threw me back with some kind of dumb witch energy, or whatever...” he huffed as he squinted suspiciously over at her hunched over form. What the fuck was happening? Sam gave his older brother a skeptical look but dropped it for now but followed Dean’s gaze to Mariah. She straightened up, the mid-section of her dress torn off and instead of what should have been skin was a freshly made, larger version imitation of the first symbol that had been on her hand. The girl wasn’t looking so well, swaying where she stood and even in the dark of night the boys could tell her arm was burnt and charred, no longer moving.

 

“When they found out what I did to the two biggest nuisances to hell I’m going to be put on the fucking throne!” She was practically in hysterics as she sneered and started the chant that had knocked Dean off his feet beforehand.

 

“Sammy! Gun!” the shorter of the two hunters yelled out as he aimed his own gun. Too late, yet again. They were too caught up in her dramatics to get a good shot in before the both of them flew backwards. Still reeling from being thrown around the first time, Dean took his sweet damn time getting back onto his feet. By the time he was off the ground his little brother was standing next to where the witch lay, staring down at her. Once he made his way over to his brother he saw what caused her to fall. Her body from her collarbones to the top of her knee-caps was a burnt, ashy mess. The skin was melted to the point you could see the bones of her rib cage sticking out of her mid-section.

 

“What kind of spell did she use on us?” the brunette asked, sparing a glance over to his brother. Shaking his head, Dean shrugged.

 

“I was wondering the same thing,” he mumbled before patting Sam's shoulder and starting back towards the edge of the forest where the witch’s house and his precious car were waiting. After a minute, Sam trailed after him, not able to stop and glance at the remains of Mariah every now and then.

 

\------------

 

Back in the safety of the bunker Dean slid his duffel bag off to the side where he would grab it later on when he felt less exhausted and slumped into one of the wooden chairs within the library. It was too-damn-early o’clock and after the few hours spent driving, he was having troubles keeping his eyes opened. With a soft grunt, he tried to relax his tense muscles, eyelids fluttering shut as he waited for Sam to return with the first aid kit. Unwinding was proving to be a more difficult task than previously thought, unable to stop his brain from running a thousand different directions about exactly what kind of spell the witch had used on them. It hadn’t seemed to do much to the brothers but it had definitely had taken its toll on her body and she sure as hell seemed proud of herself.

 

His train of thought was interrupted by Sam walking back into the room, lifting up the red and white plastic container that held the necessary tools to seal up the laceration across his torso. Sighing, Dean rolled his green eyes heavenward in dread. Sewing the wound shut was always the worst part of getting hurt.

 

“You get me whiskey?” He grunted, pleased to see the bottle of amber liquid behind the box. Reaching his hand forward he snatched the glass out of his arms and unscrewed the top to take a hearty swig of the burning liquid. Sam just chuckled and shook his head.

 

“You know we have pain meds? You don’t have to drink yourself into next week every time we do this,” The brunette muttered with a small smile to himself as he set down the box and opened it up. At the sight of the needle, thread, and gauze that would soon be coming his way, Dean took another deep gulp of the bourbon and groaned. “Oh, come on, we’ve done this a million times, stop being a big baby.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I get it,” He said gruffly as he slips out of his canvas jacket and moves his flannel and t-shirt out of the way so Sam can easily get to the cut. After a moment of inspection, the younger Winchester nods to himself and hands Dean a piece of gauze soaked in antiseptic. “Really? You’re gonna make me clean my own damn wound? What a dick.” Instead of offering sympathy Sam just snorted a bit as he prepared the curved needle.

 

“Again, big baby,” He grins before kneeling and eyeballing where the center of the wound is and getting ready to start the suture process when a slamming door makes the both of them jump. Standing up abruptly Sam stomps aggravatedly to the entrance only to see Castiel. “Jesus, Cass! I nearly stabbed Dean!”

 

“How unfortunate,” the angel muttered as he made his way down the stairs. “Perhaps my entry would be quieter if the bunker did not have all these sigils keeping me from flying in.” Rolling his hazel eyes, the taller male just made his way back to the library and finally started stitching his brother back up as quickly as he could. “Hello, Dean. How are you doing?”

 

“Well my brother is stitching me up and I just finished half a bottle of whiskey within the five minutes I received it so, pretty well. Thanks for asking,” Castiel just squints in response to the human’s snarky remark.

 

“I cannot tell if that’s sarcasm or not.”

 

“Me either.”

 

“Will you two shut up? If you haven’t noticed, I’m doing something kind of important here,” the brunette huffed as he paused for a moment to glare at both Dean and Cass.

 

“I apologize for the disturbance but I didn’t think it really mattered,” a beat of silence. “Seeing as how I could just heal Dean with my grace instead of the tiring suture process.” Sam damn near blew a fuse.

 

“Yeah, okay! I guess! Whatever,it's been a long ass night,” He muttered, throwing his free hand up in the air and letting the needle drop, still attached to the thread sticking out of his brother who was laughing at the spectacle. The alcohol numbed a slight amount of pain and despite half a bottle being nowhere near enough to make him drunk he was still a bit tipsy. “I’m going to get some more whiskey.” The grumpier of the three mumbles as he stomps to the kitchen.

 

“I don’t understand why he’s upset, I was just stating what should have been obvious,” the blue-eyed male mused out loud before taking a step closer to Dean and pressing two fingers against his forehead. With a flash of blue light any evidence of a mark was gone and so were any traces of the whiskey. Pulling away he gave the human a strange look.

 

“What? Do I have something on my face?” The older Winchester asked defensively, standing up to make himself taller than the angel. (Despite how useless that was seeing as how there’s really only an inch or two difference between the two.) Shaking his head, messy black hair flopping back and forth he cleared his throat.

 

“No. There’s nothing on your face, you just seem..” Castiel paused briefly to try and find a way to explain what he had felt. “different.” Dean just laughed. “I don’t understand. What’s so funny?”

 

“You. There’s nothing different, I’m just bone-tired s’all,” Dean muttered as he rolled his shoulders with a yawn. Something in the back of his conscious tugged insistently that it might be something caused by the witch’s unknown spell. He ignored it. “Speaking of which, I’m probably going to hit the hay soon. Any particular reason why you decided to stop by?” he asked as they made their way over to the kitchen where Sam was scrolling through something on his phone and occasionally taking a sip from a bottle of whiskey.

 

“Just stopping by to make sure you two haven’t managed to kill yourselves yet,” That one earned a snort from Sam as he grinned around the lip of the bottle. “Hell’s the same, Heaven’s the same, I honestly wouldn’t even like to think about Purgatory. It’s all in all the same thing it always is.”

 

“Good to hear, but if that’s all, I’m gonna go take a shower and sleep until late next afternoon. Night,” Dean grins, snagging the bourbon for a second so he can take a quick drink. The two others say their goodnights and the blonde wanders off to his room. Normally a hot shower and some ‘Dean-time’ would calm him down after a hunt and he would crash as soon as his head hit the pillows but even after that he was still tense. His mind was racing and no matter what he tried he couldn’t stop thinking about that dumb witch. The hunt was over, Austin was out of the hot seat. So why couldn’t he just get his mind off of her dumb spell that hadn’t done anything. Eventually exhaustion won out over his busy mind and he was sleeping soundly.

 

Besides, things would be alright. When have things ever gone wrong for Sam and Dean?


	2. The Incredible Shrinking Winchesters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this would have been out sooner but it's the end of the quarter and I had a lot of school stuff to do. If things go as planned, I might have a chapter or two posted sometime next week since it's spring break. (praise) Also I'm sorry the story is a little dry right now? I know I'm a shoddy ass writer and I'm working on it, my dudes. I have the focus of a toddler and I apologize if my writing gets brain-numbingly boring.
> 
> All that aside, I hope you like the second chapter! thank y'all so much for readin'!

**A Day After the Spell**

 

When dean woke up he was surprised that he had slept so long. After his shower, he had laid in bed for an hour or two thinking about what had happened earlier but then he was out like a light. He could tell that, despite falling into such a deep sleep, it had been a very restless night for him. Even though all that, he had awakened feeling better than he has in a while. It made sense that he should take advantage of his newly found energy and be productive. There was surely something that needed cleaned around the bunker, he could look for hunts, exercise, train, there was many things he could be doing with his buzz. But he wasn’t going to do shit today and that was no surprise. The day right after a successful hunt was usually spent sitting on the couch and chugging beer and then the next day you hop right back onto that saddle and back to the fast-paced hunter life. But how many days do you get to spend like it’s a lazy Saturday when you’re a thirty-six-year-old man with a career of ganking the creatures that lurk in the dark?

 

Still in his house coat and t-shirt and boxers he had worn to bed he shuffles into the ‘living room’ sort of area they moved a couch and a TV into. Sam is already lounging on the couch with a mug of coffee as he stares blankly at the dull newscaster talk about the weather. He too is wearing his nightclothes, which consist of a plain t-shirt and sweat pants. Grunting at his younger brother so he would slide to the side a bit Dean flops down next to him. 

 

“Get any sleep last night?” the older asks after a few minutes of quietly watching some douche bag looking newscaster and a lady with a decent rack go on about the latest news with congress or some type of dumb government bullshit that Dean had zero interest in whatsoever.

 

“Kind of hard to settle down after watching that lady burn herself to death right in front of us,” And leave it to Sam to bring up the one thing that Dean had been hoping they wouldn’t have to talk about right now. Nodding his head, forest green eyes still trained on the screen he grunted. “I mean, that spell couldn’t have been pointless, right? Why else would she use a spell that would damn near kill her if it wasn't beneficial to her or whoever she was working for?"

 

“I don’t know, Sammy,” Dean admitted, “The same thing’s been gnawing on me too.” He mutters under his breath before swiping the remote from where it lay by Sam’s side and changing the channel to anything more interesting than the news. “But I’m going to try and forget all about the weird shit that went on yesterday and sit on my ass all day. If you’d rather wrack your brain for pointless answers, that’s just fine. I’ll be here.”

 

Sam nodded, focusing his attention back onto the TV. That’s where they stayed for most of the day, trying to be lazy in a tense silence.

 

**Two Days After the Spell**

 

Another early night for the both of the boys and soon even Sammy was starting to feel more energetic than usual. Like most days, he woke up before his older brother and instead of dicking around on his smart phone he decided to use this burst of motivation to make coffee and breakfast for the both of them. When Dean did finally rise from the dead and wander into the kitchen with messy bedhead and scruff covering his jaw he grinned.

 

“Damn! What got into you this morning?” He teased as he sat down at the small table in the kitchen. Rolling his eyes, Sam just focused on the eggs cooking inside of the pan he held over the stove.

 

“Ha. Ha,” He mocked before giving his broad shoulders a shrug as he divvied up the scrambled eggs onto two plates. “Just woke up feeling good. Figured I might as well do something useful.” The brunette is curious when he turns with plates filled with food (including amountain of bacon for Dean, of course) and Dean is just sat there with a perplexed look on his face. “Something wrong?” He asked his troubled brother, sliding him his plate and a cup of coffee.

 

“No, it’s nothing,” he mutters, dismissively waving his hand before grabbing his fork and stuffing a large mouthful in with a huge grin. “Ish good!” the older Winchester says with his mouth filled and Sam chuckles, rolling his eyes.

 

“That’s gross. At least  _try_ to not speak with your mouth full,” He mutters under his breath before sitting down across from him to start in on his own breakfast.

 

“I’ve actually been feeling pretty pumped myself,” Dean admits after finishing his bite. “I say we ride this wave out and find a hunt. Kick some ass.” Sam just shrugs, it’s not like there was anything he had planned anyways. They continue eating in comfortable silence until the blonde clears his throat to get the other’s attention. “You don’t think…don’t think that the spell or whatever the fuck the witch did to us is going to do anything, right?” Sam is quiet for a moment before sporting half a smile and shaking his head.

 

“I don’t think so,” Dean sighs in relief, that being the answer he was looking for. “If anything, you look better than you have in a while, a lot less tired than usual.” Sam mutters and it was true, the age lines starting to vaguely show up on his face were much, much harder to find than usual and the dark racoon tracks under his eyes were lighter too. “Unless she cast a spell to help us, which I strongly doubt.” That suggestion makes Dean snort.

 

“Yeah, sure. A witch we were tryna gank helping us out,” He smirks, laughing like it was the funniest joke he had heard in while as he slides off the stool at the counter and setting his dishes in the sink. “That’s real rich.” Dean leaned back, stretching his back out until it made a satisfying pop back into place. “Dumb witches, bad at their jobs.”

 

“Don’t get too cocky, okay?” Sam rolls his eyes as he sets his own set of dishes into the sink, figuring eventually one of them would wash the sizable pile growing in there. “I figured you’d want to start hunting soon since we don’t have much to do. So, I looked around the web last night and I’ve found evidence of a vampire nest a few hours out. We’d be close enough to here we wouldn’t have to go rent a crappy motel, just come back here. That sound good?

 

“Sounds great, Sammy. I’m gonna go get dressed then you can tell me all about those vamps,” Dean called out as he started walking out into the hallway.

 

**Five Days After the Spell**

  
They had just finished up the relatively routine vampire hunt and both of them felt great, felt better than ever actually. Every day they woke up was a good morning seeing as they felt ready to take on the world. The vampires had been easy, busy work They went on without complications and managed to take down the small nest of seven. Hunting had completely taken their minds away from their unsettling counter with Mariah. Spell long forgotten Dean pulled his baby into the garage, shifting her into park. The two men climbed out of the car, still laughing softly about a joke that had just been passed between the two of them and they made their way down to the library and their great moods only got better to see two six-packs sitting on the large table in the center of the room.

 

“I told you the beer gods were real,” Dean beamed over at his little brother who just rolled his eyes. Hearing the sound of voices Castiel walked out from where he had been in the kitchen his trench coat and suit jacket missing and the sleeves of his white button-up rolled to his elbows. For a second he almost looked like a normal human. The two gave him an odd look.

 

“I called your phones but neither of you answered so I came here. I figured the alcohol would be appreciated and while I was waiting I noticed the large number of dishes in the sink and decided totidy those up as well. I hope it wasn’t too much of an intrusion,” Cass explained, still drying his hands off with a towel. “I just wanted to stop by again and see how things are going.” The longer the angel seemed to stare at the human duo the more his brow creased until he looked completely lost.

 

“No complaining here. I was just gonna wait for Sammy to do the dishes since I didn’t want to,” Dean received a smack in the back of the head for that one. He noted a lack of a reaction from Castiel. “Hello? You still there, space cadet?” The shorter man just blinked and cleared his throat.

 

“Ah, sorry. You two just seem…different,” the ominous way the angel said it was putting Dean on edge and it wasn’t a feeling he liked. Waving his arm in the air as a gesture to go on, Castiel just scrutinized the brothers further. “You both look different. Younger.”

 

“Well, gosh, you tryna butter me up or something?” Dean laughed, elbowing Sam’s side making him chuckle along with his big brother. Cass just sighed in frustration, rolling his sleeves down and grabbing for his jackets that lay strewn across one of the chairs at the table.

 

“While I may be more in tune to human expressions than I used to be, that one doesn’t make any sense,” He huffs, sending the blonde a harsh, blue-eyed glare his way. “I am legitimately worried about you two, there is something going on here and while you may not be concerned with it, I am.”

 

“Alright, what’s with the mother hen act, Cass?” Sam asked, he found it a bit ridiculous that such an otherworldly being was getting so upset over the two of them. Especially when there was no solid evidence for his apprehension.

 

“I already explained it. I can’t be certain unless I check but I am almost positive there is something different about you two. Now if you would let me…” Castiel trails off as he walks forward, two fingers heading towards Dean’s forehead. Reflexively the hunter grabbed his wrist before it made contact, his amused grin gone immediately.

 

“Woah, chill with the angel mojo, Cass. There isn’t anything wrong and I want to keep as much foreign, supernatural junk outta my body as possible,” he warned, taking a step back as he released the other’s arm. This only proved to frustrate the celestial being further.

 

“How do you know nothing is wrong if you won’t let me-” he cut himself off with an irritated grunt. “Fine, so be it. If you won’t allow me to continue with my inspection then I’ll just settle down in the bunker until I’m satisfied you aren’t in danger.” Castiel folded his arms stubbornly. The boys blanched.

 

“No way, Cass!” Dean yelled, throwing his arms up. “This is an invasion of privacy, we’re fine!”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got to agree with Dean on this one, buddy,” Sam agreed. “besides, don’t you have things going on? Heaven? Hell? Something?”

 

“Hell and Heaven are as they should be for right now. I’ve got time and unless you’ll agree to me examining you then I won’t have to, as Dean put it, ‘invade your privacy,’” Castiel honestly found all this drama overboard and while he knew Dean had an aversion to the supernatural he hadn’t expected him to get so upset about a simple check-in. In fact, just a few nights ago he let him heal his cut. It was nearly like he had forgotten that Castiel would never do anything to purposely hurt him. This only further fueled his worries. Neither hunter looked like they were about to budge so with a sigh and a roll of his cerulean eyes he pulled a chair out from the table and took a seat. “Suit yourselves.”

 

**Seven Days After the Spell**

 

 

The two hunters love Castiel. They treat him like he’s part of the family, which he practically is after all the shit they have been through together. So, they aren’t trying to step on any toes when they say that having him here nonstop for the past two days has been absolutely agitating. It’s not that the angel has done anything to purposely annoy or pester his friends, nor has he invaded their privacy for the most part which is considerably impressive seeing as he isn’t too keen on social cues and such. Most of his time is spent in the library as he sits in silence. While that doesn’t seem too bad in most cases, walking through the library to get the kitchen near the middle of the night and having a gravelly voice call out ‘Hello, Dean’ from the darkness is enough to give anyone the fucking creeps.

 

“Jesus christ!”

 

“No, it’s Castiel,” The angel said confused, cocking his head to the side.

 

“I meant-no, whatever. Don’t scare me like that!” Dean grunted, throwing his arms up before stumbling around to find a lamp to turn on. The bright burst of yellowed light made the hunter hiss at the sudden light. Turning back to Castiel, eyes sleepy and hair messed up, he raised an eyebrow and waved his hand in a gesture to go on.

 

"Would you rather me sit here and not say anything?”

 

“No! That’s even creepier!” Castiel’s face contorted into and even more confused state, making Dean sigh. It was difficult to argue with somebody so inexperienced about what is considered acceptable and what isn’t. “Why don’t you just go to sleep?”

 

“I don’t require sleep. We’ve been over this,” Now it seemed liked Cass was starting to get a bit exasperated himself.

 

“Can’t you try?”

 

“But I-” he cut himself off with a heavy sigh. “I suppose I could try.” An out of kilter silence settled between the two of them, piercing blue eyes peering profoundly into the other’s green eyes. Dean was the first to break off the staring contest, glancing back over to the kitchen.

 

“Anyways, I came out here to get a glass of water or something…” He muttered a bit awkwardly before shuffling over to his destination. By the time he had his glass and stumbled back out to the library Castiel was gone, most likely perusing the halls, trying to find an empty bedroom to attempt sleep in. It was little things like that that started to wear down on the two hunter’s nerves. So much that in the afternoon of the second day of the supernatural being’s stay they were both on laptops, scouring the web for any hint of a hunt when Cass emerged from heaven knows where in the bunkers. As soon as he laid his eyes on the boys his arms folded tightly across his chest as he gave them a wary look.

 

“Take a picture, Cass. It’ll last longer,” Dean mutters, barely looking up from the glowing screen of the computer. Sam scoffs from across the table.

 

“Your sarcasm isn’t welcomed. But what I would greatly appreciate is if you two would let me check on you,” Sam had to practically bite his tongue to stop himself from yelling out something snarky at the well-meaning angel until he looked up from the monitor to see the genuine worry pasted onto Cass’ face. “I honestly believe there is something going on with the two of you, and it worries me deeply.”

 

‘Listen, Cass. It’s real endearing that you’re so concerned for our well-being like this,” Sam started. “but there isn’t anything going on here. We haven’t felt this good a long time maybe the fact that we’re actually feeling motivated is what you’re picking up on?”

 

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” Castiel was borderline yelling with his exasperated tone and wide, disbelieving eyes. “You even look different than normal!”

 

“Really, Cass? Maybe it’s just because we’re actually getting some sleep for once,” the brunette scoffed, raising an eyebrow as he closed his laptop. “You need to calm down, man.” The angel was the most frustrated Sam and Dean had seen him in a long time. Instead of yelling some more like he obviously wanted to he just balled up his fists and turned to leave, trench coat billowing behind him.

 

“I’m going to be out for a while,” is all he said before marching up the stairs and slamming the bunker door behind him.

 

**Eight Days After the Spell**

 

 

What Castiel had said had Sam slightly paranoid. In fact, that morning he had caught himself staring into his reflection, trying to find the differences that the angel had been so freaked about. Shaking his head, he scoffed lightly at himself, the unreasonably perturbed angel was getting to him. Maybe the worry lines that had been steadily making themselves known on his face had been less noticeable and his hair almost seemed a bit shorter, like it had been a couple years back. Sam chalked it up to paranoia clouding his judgement, making him see things that weren’t actually there, making mountains out of mole hills. Of course, it didn’t stop the uptight feeling from his gut to gnaw at him as he switched the bathroom light off and headed out to the kitchen.

 

The hunter took a double take as he shuffled his way into the kitchen to see aforementioned angel in the kitchen making toast and coffee with an austere look to his face. For some reason, it didn’t feel like the right time to make jokes about the sudden appearance of housewife Cass so Sam silently leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen, glancing up from his fidgeting hands to peek at the angel who was still focused on making breakfast. Last night after the argument had been a bit rough and the brothers tried to avoid saying anything about the fight or about much of anything afterwards. Neither of the boys had seen or heard Castiel come back home and they assumed that he was out of their hair for a couple weeks. While it wasn’t exactly ideal for their angel to be mad at them and ditch them, they also didn’t want him to worry and suffocate them like the helicopter parent he had become in the past few days.

 

Sam isn’t stuck in his thoughts for long before Dean shows up, most likely having heard the sound of the coffee machine going off from a mile away. Dean had been expecting his younger brother to be the one behind the commotion but when he slid in through the doorway to see Sam sitting down at the table and Castiel being the one making food he paused briefly. Giving the scene before him a puzzled look he slowly made his way to the bench across from Sam and took a seat. Turning to the other hunter he raised his eyebrows, jerking his head towards the busy body grabbing the toasted bread from the machine and tossing onto the small stack already resting on a plate. The brunette just shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Cass? Buddy?” Dean started, breaking the rigid quiet. Castiel tensed up for a moment before continuing. “You alright?” There’s no response, just a few more moments in the unsettling lack of noise before the angel turns around and practically slams a plate in front of him.

 

“I’m aware that this is a food typically eaten during ‘breakfast.’ Eat it,” It’s practically an order with the forceful way he says it and folds his arms across his chest and glares at the food. Nobody makes a move to grab the toast and it’s awkward to say the least. Eventually Sam clears his throat, managing to get eye contact from the angel.

 

“This is really nice and all, but we’re kind of worried about you,” Castiel just scoffs, the corner of his mouth tilting up in the beginnings of a sneer before going back to stone-faced. The younger hunter starts to wonder if Castiel learning human expressions and emotions made their lives easier or harder. The sass he could certainly do without. “I’m serious, Cass. You’ve been acting super weird.”

 

“I do not need to explain myself once again,” he spits out, foot tapping impatiently at the linoleum floors. The usually composed being is starting to tear at the seams with his worry for his only friends, friends that have grown to be his family. “Just let me help.” Now it’s Dean’s turn to get irritated as he slams his hand down on the tabletop.

 

“Dammit, Cass! Just let it go alright?” the blonde grunts, moving to stand up and glare at the other. Instead of backing down or storming out it only proves to enrage Cass even further as his hands curl into fists.

 

“I’m sick and tired of you two acting so immature!” He yells right back, leaving Sam as the only one not engaging in the verbal scrimmage. “If you two can’t get over your pride long enough to let somebody take care of you, then I’ll just take matters into my own hands.” And before either Winchester can tell what’s happening the angel lifts two finger to Dean’s forehead, a brief blue light flashing behind Castiel’s eyes. Furious, the hunter grips his wrist and roughly shoves him away.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!!” the blonde yelled out, affronted. Sam could only stare, wide-eyed and slack jawed. This was not at all the way he figured this morning was going to pan out. Castiel didn’t have much of a reaction to Dean’s outburst, he just stared, confused and if Sam didn’t know better he almost looked slightly startled. “What? If you got somethin’ to say just get out with it!”

 

“You…You’re thirty-six, correct?” the shorter male asks hesitantly.

 

“I-what? I mean, yeah, but I fail to see how that’s relevant right now?” his anger was starting to give away to something close to apprehension and the knot in Sam’s gut twisted in on itself.

 

“That’s what I thought. You’re not thirty-six anymore. More like twenty-eight,” Cass mumbles, scrutinizing the shocked male like some kind of science project. Sam’s blood ran cold and it wasn’t some big mystery of how this could have possibly happened. If Castiel was really telling the truth and Dean was twenty-eight, it only made sense that this was an effect from the spell the witch had put on them. It seemed like he has been finally getting over the apprehension of a seemingly useless spell being cast and here he was, with his doubts coming back to bite them in the ass. Dean knew this as well, but was balls deep in his denial, not wanting to accept that something that’s beyond his control had been happening right under his nose this entire time.

 

“What do you mean, twenty-eight?” The hunter exclaimed, bewildered.

 

“I mean that while you still retain all of your memories, your body has regressed to its state from when you were twenty-eight years old,” Cass explained as though he thought Dean really had no clue as to what he meant. “I have a suspicion that your brother is in a similar state,” He turns to Sam, “If you’ll let me confirm?” The angel walks the short distance between them and holds two fingers up and pauses before pressing them against his forehead.

 

Giving a stiff nod, Sam lets the other worldly being check him like he did with his older brother just a moment ago. When Castiel pulled away there was the same troubled look on his usually expressionless face. “Cass?”

 

“It’s just as I suspected. You’re twenty-four. The both of you have become younger by eight years,” he informed, folding his arms loosely. There was a still moment where none of the three dared to say anything or even make eye contact, each male stuck in their own minds. “How did this…? Do either of you have any idea of how this could be possible?” While Cass looked utterly lost, the two hunters just shared a brief look. They both had an intimation of what was occurring.

 

“We ran into a pretty weird witch hunting case a little over week ago,” Sam spoke up once it was obvious that Dean wasn’t going to break the news to the worried angel. “It was the hunt before you stopped by the bunker and healed Dean.”

 

“I’ve never seen a curse like this before. I’ve heard of memory loss spells, spells that cause people to forget how to speak or write or read but nothing like this,” Castiel mumbled, thinking aloud. “It’s been about eight days and you’ve both regressed eight years so it seems that you get younger by a year each day.” He concludes.

 

“That is…insane.”

 

“That’s just our luck,” Sam groans as he pushes himself away from the counter. It’s barely past ten in the morning and he has a headache.

 

“I’m going to go get dressed and then we need to discuss some way to reverse this bullshit curse,” Dean grumbled, practically reading his younger brother’s mind as he slunk out of the kitchen, balled up fists at his sides. With a soft sigh, Sam turned his gaze back to Cass. His blue eyes were practically swimming with worry. Before leaving to his room to get dressed himself he reached out to pat the angel’s shoulder.

 

“Thing’s’ll be alright, Cass,” whether the hunter really believed that or not was a different story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's mistakes in here, I'm almost sure of it. Please ignore them for right now, I'll fix them whenever I can keep my eyes open for more than 5 minutes at a time. Hope it was good tho lmao
> 
> EDIT 1: went through a brief scan of the chapter and fixed a thing or two. I'll do a more thorough job later lmao.
> 
> EDIT 2: finally went through and edited it! I'm trying out a different format to show time has passed and I'm going through each chapter to make the ideas try and flow together smoothly. (I also finally came up with a clever chapter title!) Sorry for the wait!


	3. Sleepless in Lebanon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the people who left kudos: AHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! iF I WASN'T ON MY LAPTOP I WOULD PUT ABOUT 12 MILLION LITTLE HEART EMOJIS! You guys are so kind and I appreciate it so much,, , , and I'm l, ov,,e

That feeling you get when you’re given devastatingly bad new, not the anger or sadness that proceeds. The subdued feeling where you know things are different but you’re too numb, too shocked, to really understand. That’s how Dean felt as he tugged on his flannel over shirt and then his jeans. He supposed it was his fault for thinking that things were going to be alright for at least one week. It was his fault for thinking that the dumb witch’s spell had no effect on them and refusing Castiel's help out of fear that it had done something just like this. They were dumb and naïve and Dean just wanted to launch his fist right through the fucking wall because somehow, he had gotten eight years younger and hadn’t realized a single damn thing. Maybe if he would have gotten over his pride and just let Castiel do his freaky mind-meld thing this could have been caught earlier and they could have fixed it.

 

Pulling himself out of his self-deprecating thoughts, he laced his work boots up and shoved himself up and away from the edge of his bed. Despite it not being any later than eleven in the morning, Dean just wanted to go back to bed and sleep this curse away. Of course, he didn’t let himself do that and shouldered his way through his bedroom door and trudged back past the kitchen to the library where Sam and Castiel were sitting. The two of them already seemed to be deep in a conversation that Dean most certainly did not want to be in. He sat down anyways. The two turned their attention to the blonde as he pulled a chair out from the table and slumped into it.

 

“Hey,” Sam offered, giving a tense half-smile. Now looking at his brother he can see how much different he looks. Call him ignorant but before now he hadn’t noticed how much shaggier his hair looked and the worried lines that seemed to permanently reside on his forehead was gone. Hell, them getting younger explained all their new-found energy perfectly and he was an idiot for not recognizing it earlier.

 

“I’m glad you joined us. Sam and I were just about to discuss what could have possibly caused this,” Castiel started, breaking the stiff quiet that was starting to build. Dean of course had no doubt in his mind that it was that damn witch, Mariah, but he had more pressing things on his mind, like was his little brother okay?

 

“I have an idea but first: Sammy,” he ignored the intense eye roll from Sam, not wanting to get into an argument about how Sam was a grown ass man and could take care of himself. “How old is he?”

 

“Twenty-four,” Cass answered almost immediately, like he had been expecting the older Winchester to worry more for his brother than himself but that wasn’t anything new. “What’s your idea?”

 

“Back when you dropped by and interrupted Sammy stitching up a cut in my side we had just gotten back from a hunt with a witch. She did some of her freaky witch junk at us and then died without either of us needing to waste a bullet,” Dean explained. Castiel rested his head in his hands, he was dealing with the world’s largest idiots. “Nothing happened immediately so we just headed back home. Then a few days later when things were still fine we figured it was just a fluke.”

 

“You know, it should baffle me with how completely incompetent you two can be, but at this point I’m not even surprised,” Castiel muttered in his own monotone version of sarcasm. Letting his hands drop back down to the table he looked between the two humans before him. “Do you have any idea what sort of curse she put on the two of you?”

 

“It wasn’t like anything we’ve seen before,” Sam speaks up. “She had carved something into her own flesh and said some weird incantation and it hurt her more than it hurt us. It was weird, she did the spell once and she was dead.”

 

“Twice,” Dean cut in, the interjection causing Sam to whip his head around and glare at his brother.

 

“Twice?” both Sam and the angel blurted simultaneously. Dean rolled his eyes and gave a half-assed shrug.

 

“She had carved a smaller version into her hand and hit me with that before Sam had come over,” He mumbled, staring down at his nails because he already knew without looking up that his brother had the signature Winchester bitch face and Cass was just staring at him incredulously.

 

“You know what, Cass? You’re right. You’re dealing with complete idiots,” Sam sighs before slumping back in the wooden chair, glaring up at the ceiling. “I apologize on my behalf.”

 

“What? We had both agreed that the spell didn’t do anything so why should I have brought it up!” Dean huffed in his defense. “Whatever, is there any way you could reverse this shit with your angel mojo?” He grunted, trying to take the attention off of him.

 

“I’ve never heard of a spell like this but I can try,” the angel informs before standing up and tucking the chair he had been sitting in back underneath the table. After making the short trip around aforementioned table he hesitantly held up two fingers, not sure whether or not to just go ahead.

 

“If things keep progressing like they are, in eight days I legally can’t drink. Just fuckin’ do it, Cass,” Dean huffs gruffly, rolling his eyes.

 

“Like that ever stopped you before,” He hears Sam mumble under his breath and if Castiel wasn’t doing his angel thing, Dean would have come up with a snarky comeback. (Of course, that doesn’t mean Sam wasn’t telling the truth.)

 

It’s time like these when no matter how human Cass may seem at times that Dean really understands how truly different he really is. The feeling of his grace is a hard to describe sort of thing and he tries to focus on anything else about how weird it is to have your best friend, who is also an angel, and his weird celestial powers all up inside your body. There’s a joke here but it wasn’t one that Dean wanted to bring up when Castiel pulls away with a face that bears bad news.

 

“There’s…just what kind of witch did you run into?” it was obvious how concerned and frustrated he was. “It’s highly unlikely I could return you back to your original age and if somehow I possibly manage to do so, I have no idea on how to stop from simply de-aging even more. That’s an intense, dark magic. I’ve never seen or heard of anything like that.” The brothers were quiet for a brief moment, this whole situation leaving a bad taste in their mouths.

 

“We had thought she was a regular witch…”

 

“Wait, what the fuck do you mean you don’t know how to stop this?” Dean cut the other Winchester off, eyes widening as the knowledge sunk in. “You mean I’m gonna keep getting younger until I’m a fucking kid? And then what?!” He was bordering hysterical as Sam sat silently next to him biting at his thumb nail anxiously. The same thoughts were on his own troubled mind.

“I’m already paging heaven to see if anybody knows anything about this. Other than that, I’m not sure what else there is to do,” Castiel admits. By now you’d think that these sort of setbacks wouldn’t be much of a frightening thing anymore, but here the boys were, eight years younger and losing their shit.

 

Cass was right. For now, there really isn’t much that the two can do but sit and wait for answers. If heaven doesn’t pull through they might have to resort to more desperate measures, like asking Rowena or Crowley for help and that wasn’t something Sam or Dean wanted to do.

 

**Nine Days After the Spell**

 

That next morning started with the Sam nursing a cup of coffee while Cass sits quietly across the table from him as Dean entered the kitchen. Both of them were fidgety and Dean felt like he was ready to crawl out of his skin.

 

“So, we just...get younger while we sleep?” The green eyed male finally blurts to interrupt the uncomfortable lack of noise. The last few days seemed crammed full of awkward pauses and silence. “If we just…didn’t sleep, do you think that we would stay the same?”

 

Sam seemed skeptical but he just shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip from his mug. “It’s worth a shot. Not like we can do much,” he sighs before turning his gaze onto the quiet angel. “Anything on angel radio yet?”

 

“Nothing but dead air and the angel equivalent to ‘man, that sucks,’” Cass grumbles his chin resting on top of his fist. “Throughout last night I searched through the books in the library and have yet to find one that mentions anything like this spell. The closest thing I got was a brief description of witches who used a spell to keep them looking young but nothing about actual age regression spells.”

 

“Of course. If something actually went right for once then the entire universe would fall apart,” Dean grumbled as he grabbed his mug and the coffee pot so he could fill up and hopefully stop feeling like the living dead. “How about age? Where’s that at?” He mumbled after a few gulps of coffee. Neither of the other males had very promising looks.

 

“Your brother is twenty-three. A year younger than he was yesterday,” Castiel sighs, Sam not looking any happier by the news. “If I had to make any inferences on your current state, I’d say you’re twenty-seven.” Dean responded to this news by throwing back another large swig of his coffee. “It’s actually rather odd how things are progressing. Instead of just getting physically younger you’re reverting back to your appearances of when you where that age. Take Sam’s hair for example, it’s much shorter than it had been,” And the angel was right, his brown hair was nearly back to the shaggy mess it had been during his time at Stanford.

 

“Well, at least there’s one good thing coming out of this nightmare,” Dean smirks, glancing between the two of them. “Sam’s hair is finally getting dealt with.” That earns him an eye roll from Cass and a swift punch in the arm from his little brother but the elder Winchester can’t help but sit there and laugh at his own joke. Might as well try to keep things happy before they go even further south.

 

After tha,t the two brothers head back to their rooms to get dressed and at least make an attempt at their normal routine. When they head back out into the library to meet up with Cass like they have been for the past few days, it’s hard to find him behind the stacks of books littering the table. It’s not until the angel pops out from behind one of them with an almost tired look dragged across his features that they realize he’s even in there.

 

“Again, while you two were sleeping, I was looking through a couple books. I don’t think the Men of Letters have anything on this type of curse,” He sighs, lifting a few of the books and shoving them back onto the shelves where they belonged.

 

It’s quiet for a moment before Sam clears his throat and asks, “What’s going to happen to us if we don’t find a way to fix this?” The question hung heavy in the air, all three of them had been thinking about it since they heard the news of what’s going to happen. Castiel paused his re-shelving, practically fidgeting as he tried to come up with the best way to break the news that both the hunters knew but didn’t want to come to terms with.

 

“I assume you’ll both grow younger until you cease to exist,” The angel put it plain and simple as he put the last few books in his arms away. “Hopefully it won’t come to that point because while the Men of Letters and heaven may not have our answers, there is always…other means of requiring information on matters like ours.” The two understood that despite Castiel’s obvious aversion to the more unsavory means of getting answers that he was still willing to do it.

 

“Thanks, Cass. We appreciate what you’ve already done but I think we’re gonna have to get Rowena,” Sam muttered, reaching out to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder reassuringly. As much as they all hated her they knew that she would be the most likely one to do something about this.

 

The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon gathering what they needed to summon the witch and headed off in Dean’s car to an abandoned warehouse a couple miles out. They weren’t stupid enough to summon one of their enemies straight into the bunker. Although the term enemies is used lightly in this case seeing as how often they have to team up with her.

 

Dean and Cass stood off to the side as Sam did his summoning thing. The older hunter would gladly let him do all of the weird, magic stuff while he did the actual hunting part of hunting. Sam was better at that sort of thing anyways, it’s what made them such a good team. The hunter and angel shared a glance before focusing their attention back on Sam who had just finished the summon and was staring down a decidedly unimpressed Rowena.

 

“Y’know you could just give me a call, right?” She muttered, looking the brunette up and down, making him shift in discomfort.

 

“Well it’s not really like we have you on speed dial, Rowena,” Sam muttered as he rolled his eyes and walked over to join Dean and Cass. At this point the witch’s casual onceover of the younger Winchester had turned into something more scrutinizing as she squinted over at him.

 

“You all need something from me,” She grins, placing her hands on her hips, unable to stop the chuckle that rises in her throat. “Let me guess, one of you imbeciles ran into a witch ya just couldn’t handle, hm? She casted a spell on ya and now you’re crawlin’ to me for help?” Sam could practically feel how his older brother was bristling with anger at his side.

 

“If we weren’t desperate I’d already be stuffing you full of bullets,” he gritted out. It only proved to make the red head laugh harder.

 

“So, I’m right,” She smirks before looking down to inspect her nails. “Now what have you two managed to get yourselves into this time? And what makes you think that I’ll help you out?”

 

“Simple. You’ll help us or I’ll kill you,” Castiel says bluntly. It proves to stop Rowena the slightest bit but she just curls her bright red lips into a tight smile and snarks back at him with a quickly thought up response.

 

“And what makes ye think you can possibly kill me? You're just one wee angel, nothing I can’t handle.”

 

“First of all, you’re bluffing, secondly, I do know other angels who wouldn’t mind helping me take you out,” The angel managed the entire exchange with his poker face and Rowena was getting frustrated with her inability to make him squirm.

 

“Fine! What is it,” she barked, glaring over at Castiel.

 

“Some witch cast a spell on us and now we keep getting younger. Any idea how to fix that?” For possibly the first time in her life, the witch was almost stunned silent and while Sam sure wasn’t going to complain about her shutting her mouth for once, she wasn’t answering his question and that was worrying. Figures that the one time they wanted the witch to laugh like this was child’s play and magic them back to working condition that she instead was gaping at him like Sam had just grown another head. Somewhere behind him he could hear Dean sigh in frustration and stalk off, most likely so he wouldn’t start breaking things.

 

“Well I know of spells to make you look much younger than you are,” She was back to smirking, though it seemed almost awkward at this point. “Are you sure it wasn’t just that? You two are lookin’ rather boyish, hm?”

 

“I have checked the both of them Rowena, they are physically younger, not just younger appearing. Can you help us out or not?” Castiel gritted out, tired of beating around the bush.

 

The redhead rolled her eyes with a huff and threw her arms out at her sides in exasperation. It seemed the pompous female was defeated. “No. I haven’t encountered anythin’ like this before,”

 

“Could you ask around about it? Read a book? Get something out of your witch friends?” Sam was pushing his hair back nervously. Dean was walking back into the room looking slightly less pissed, he probably found something within the abandoned building to smash.

 

“It’s not like I can just magically pull a counter spell outta thin air!” She seethed, resting her hands back on her hips and squinting at the three of them accusingly, like they had done something wrong.

 

“There’s got to be something you can do! You can’t tell me after being alive for thousands of years you’re just a regular, good for nothing witch!” The younger hunter berated. “Think of something and think of it quick. Dean and I have limited time here.” Rowena, with her fists balled up at her sides, let out a dramatic breath and sent a piercing glare through Sam.

 

“I can see what I can do to help you heathens but I’m going to need to know a little more about the spell you two have been put under,” No longer arguing her voice seemed quiet inside the echoing cavern of a room they were in.

 

“What do you need to know?”

 

“Anything that’ll help me to identify the curse you two idiots have landed yourself with,” She replied, back to staring at her nails like this was just a run of the mill spell she needed to look up.

 

“The two get younger every day. It seems that it happens overnight,” Castiel supplied. “As of right now there isn’t any other distinguishing things about what’s happening to them.”

 

“What about the whole witch offing herself thing?” Dean piped in glancing from between his best friend to his brother. Rowena arched her eyebrow, cueing him to go further. “She had to carve the symbols into herself and doing the spell ended up killing her. A weird swirly looking symbol with a slash through it,” The red head was quiet in thought for a moment.

 

“Looks like you lucky boys have really gotten yourselves in deep this time,” Was all she mumbled before offering a strained smile. “That sounds like some old magic, the dark kind, if you ask me. I’ll look through what books I have and get back to you but it sounds like this could have been a spell of her own design as well as dark magic.” Her fake smile curled back into her signature smirk as she held her hand out, palm open. “You should give me your numbers. So, I can stay in touch.” The three of them exchanged a look.

 

“You have a phone?”

 

“I might be thousands of years old but that doesn’t mean I’m out of touch!” She barks, snagging the phone out of Sam’s hand halfway through him pulling it out of his pocket. Mumbling rude things the brothers could only halfway hear under her breath she jabbed her number into his phone and listed her contact name under Rowena with a ridiculous amount of hearts alongside it. “I’ll call you when I’ve got something. Good luck, boys.” And with that she was gone.

 

“That was surprisingly easy,” Cass murmured in the wake of Rowena’s absence. The angel wasn’t wrong. The entire altercation between the four of them hadn’t been as painstaking as the hunters were counting on. “I had counted on having to threaten her much more to get her to cooperate.”

 

“Maybe she did it to be on our good side so word doesn’t get around that the wicked witch of the west over here doesn’t know every single spell in the book by now,” Dean mumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his canvas jacket and looking around uninterested. “Or maybe she just likes a good challenge. Anyways, I’m going to drop you two back off at the bunker so if we could start exiting the dank, empty warehouse now, that would be much appreciated.”

 

“What do you mean us two? You’re not coming back home?” Sam questioned as he started gathering the stuff they had brought with them into an old duffel bag.

 

“I’m going to go to the bar and drink myself stupid and find somebody hot to hook up with while it’s still legal,” Dean muttered bitterly as he strode over to the doors. The brunette just rolled his eyes at his older brother’s dramatics and zipped up his bag.

 

“You ready to go?” he asked the trench coat clad angel still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

 

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked, cocking his head to the side, squinting blue eyes up at Sam as he stood back up and slung the duffel over a broad shoulder. Rolling his eyes he sighed at the angel.

 

“You’re right. What was I thinking,” the taller chuckled before gesturing for Cass to hurry up. “Let’s go before Dean starts throwing a fit that we’re cutting into his drinking time.”

 

**\------**

 

It’s an hour or so past midnight when Dean staggers through the door to the bunker like a wounded animal. Castiel’s head whips up from the dusty book he was practically buried in to see the human stumble and nearly fall face first into the metal stairs. With a flourish of his tan, billowing coat he’s quickly heading over to help to hold up his friend as he forces a laugh that sounds more like a painful grunt.

 

“My bad, did I wake you up?” The angel was used to the usual façade that the brothers used when they were hurt and tried to act like everything was just fine and dandy. After a moment’s hesitation Cass quickly rushes toward the staggering hunter and halfway carried the blonde to fall back into a chair.

 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Castiel questioned frantically as his intense, blue eyes swept up and down Dean’s body worriedly. Not seeing any obvious physical injuries, he looked back to the other’s green eyes, which were screwed shut tightly as he hissed out in pain through his teeth. “Did somebody do this to you?”

 

With a curt shake of his head he slumped into the chair like he was boneless, the pain taking an obvious pause. Dean was breathing heavily by the time he finally opened his mouth to explain. “I was just leaving some super-hot chick I don’t even remember the name of after a quickie when I started feelin’ like…” He gestured to himself weakly. “Like this…” By the end of his sentence he was already tensed up in pain again, grinding his teeth together harshly to keep himself from yelling out.

 

Not wanting his friend to suffer through the obviously intense pain he reached out, placing his two fingers on his forehead. He was met with the unfamiliar feeling of strange magic when it clicked that Dean was getting younger. Both him and his brother must have always been asleep during this time of night and the spell probably intended for them to regress during their sleep since neither had ever complained about a particularly rough night of sleep. The most Castiel could do was cut the current wave of pain short. Though it didn’t do much seeing as Dean was left gasping like a fish out of water afterwards.

 

Without wasting time Castiel gripped the human by his shoulders to get his attention. “Dean, this is the magic that’s making you feel like this-”

 

“Figures,”

 

“I’m going to put you into an unconscious state so the transition is easier for you,” Cass rushes through his sentence, barely waiting after he’s got the words out to reach out and replace his fingers over Dean’s forehead and knock him out before the next wave of pain could hit him. The angel would have felt bad about not letting Dean have a word in otherwise but seeing him without the twist of agony that had been distorting his features was reason enough not to feel guilty.

 

If anything good were to come of Dean’s experience was that they couldn’t just stop sleeping and skip the age reversal. Castiel sighed and slumped heavily into the chair nearest the now soundly sleeping hunter and gave him another quick look over to make sure he was really alright. Once the human was scrutinized to the angel’s standards he let his eyes fall shut and sigh as he slipped down further into the stiff, wooden chair. He hadn’t handled that situation as well as he possibly could have, seeing as he had hesitated when he could have been working on putting a stop to the pain that had wracked the poor hunter’s body.

 

This wasn’t the time to be wallowing in self-pity, Cass reluctantly opened his eyes and rose to his feet so he could easily sweep up Dean from the wooden chair. With his angel’s strength, he easily held him up bridal style and tucked back both chairs into their place at the table with one foot before heading down the hallway towards Dean’s room and setting him down atop his bed. Not wanting to risk waking him up he gave a quick snap of his fingers and Dean’s boots and over shirts were now sitting on top of the dresser across the room, leaving him in his black t-shirt and his jeans.

  
Castiel stood there awkwardly unsure of what to do next for a longer amount of time than he would think was socially acceptable before he figured that he should pull the covers up so Dean doesn’t get cold. After all, a cold on top of all this magic business would just be the rotten cherry on top of the already god awful cake.

 

Once he had the covers tucked up around the blonde’s shoulders he was starting to toss and turn fitfully in his sleep. Without hesitating this time, he reached out to place his fingertips against his forehead once more. Almost immediately as his grace brushed up against Dean’s soul all the tension left him and he all but leaned into the touch. Despite knowing that the hunter would have had the grown man’s equivalent to a hissy fit if he knew this was happening, Cass ran his hands through the other’s short, sandy blonde locks soothingly. He sat like that for a long while, just mindlessly running his hands through his hair until the human was no longer as restless as he had been and yet again sleeping soundly.

 

Not wanting to overstep any more boundaries tonight, Castiel pulled himself away. Despite thinking that Dean deserved to be comforted in trying times like these he knew that if he had woken up with Cass' fingers tangled in his hair he would not be a happy camper, to put it in simple terms. As he left the room he glanced back at the sleeping figure in the dark room and wondered if he would be sore, or even remember any of what happened in the morning. He shut the door quietly behind him, hoping he would just sleep it off.


	4. Improvising.

Dean woke up feeling like a list of migraine symptoms. The left side of his brain was pounding despite the room being pitch black except for the blinking red lights of the alarm clock on the night stand beside his bed. It read 11:32 and he could only assume it was eleven in the morning. Groggily sitting up proved to be a mistake when a dizzying rush filled his head and made him feel like a brick was just dropped into his stomach. It was obvious why he felt like hell, seeing as he got to experience the de-aging process first hand last night.

 

Feeling he had slept in long enough he reluctantly pushed himself out of bed and, luckily, managed to bolt to the bathroom quick enough that he didn’t hurl all over his bedroom floor. Once the alcohol and greasy bar food was no longer sitting in his stomach like a pound of cement he decided a hot shower was in order. Without turning the lights in the bathroom on he managed to strip out of his clothes and stand in the warm spray of water thirty minutes after he washed off. At the very least he felt a little less tense if not a little better for wear after that. By the time he was dry and dressed in clean clothes it was almost an hour after he woke up and was praying that Sam or Cass had made lunch so he wouldn’t have to do it himself.

 

To his luck, the kitchen was occupied with the two very people he had been hoping to see and better yet, there was a pot of macaroni and cheese and sandwich fixings laid out on the counter. Pumping his fist at his side, he grinned and nabbed a plate to fill.

 

“You slept in late, long night?” Sam was grinning slyly, knowing that he had gone out to get drunk and hook up with someone when they could be looking for answers and now Dean looks like hammered crap. The older brother of the two just sneered in his general direction. The snarky expression morphed into one of amusement as soon as he got a good look at his baby brother, emphasis on the baby part. It was like he had taken a time machine back about ten years. Shaggy bangs in his eyes and an inch shorter he was about the age of the year they were searching for their dad.

 

“Well, hi there, Sammy!” He laughed, turning to make a big deal about how young he looked now. Rolling his hazel eyes, the younger gestured right back at him.

 

“Look who’s talking, you’ve got baby face and too many damn freckles to count,” He huffed. Dean reached up to run his hand along his jaw, the usual stubble mostly gone and more pudge than he had been used to in the past few years. Shutting his mouth the blonde just sighed and turned back to the food, scooping a large amount of the cheesy noodles onto his plate.

 

Now that the two brothers were done with teasing each other the angel spoke up in his gravelly voice, “How are you feeling, Dean?” He asked in a voice that was just this side of too concerned and grated on Dean’s nerves.

 

“I’m fine, Cass,” He replied in a clipped voice that he hoped relayed that he wasn’t having this conversation at all, let alone in front of his little brother. Sitting down with his lunch the silence was tense and uncomfortable and the blonde was now desperately wishing for it to just not be weird in here for five seconds. The playful banter that had conspired between the Winchesters just seconds ago had been a nice enough ruse that these changes weren’t affecting them but both of them were a few moments from having a full-blown freak-out. They had in no way been scrawny at this age but they hadn’t built up the muscle of their thirty-something counterparts and it had Dean feeling weak and that was never a feeling he dealt with well. 

 

Castiel, standing at the end of the counter awkwardly after being snapped at for reasons he didn’t quite understand, (what’s new?) decided to take one for the team and break the awful absence of sound. “We contacted Rowena earlier this morning and she says that she has found a few books that could possibly contain a counter spell,” Cass explained as Dean shoveled his lunch into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days. Sam just rolled his eyes when Castiel paused, raising an eyebrow at him, and waved him on to continue. “She asked us to continue looking through the library for any spell books so she isn’t, as she put it, ‘the backbone of this operation.’” Dean scoffs around a mouthful of food.

 

“Yeah, that sounds like Rowena.”

 

“Dude, close your mouth. Don’t talk with your mouthful,” Sam groaned, pushing away from the table and setting his dishes into the sink before rolling his eyes as Dean just sends a glare his way and makes no effort to close his mouth while chewing. “Whatever. Cass and I are going down to the storage room to search through the boxes and junk. Meet us down there when you’re done eating like a toddler,” the younger mutters before jerking his head to try and knock the bangs out of his eyes. Dean just gives a short nod and continues to inhale his lunch.

 

Just what he needs, nine years younger and the only solution is to spend his day reading some dusty old books.

 

**Ten Days After the Spell**

  
Waking up in the morning was rough for Sam. It didn’t take him looking into the mirror to know that he was back to the age he had been in when he had last seen Jess, had given up his normal life, leaving Stanford after spending his entire life working towards it to hunt down the monster tearing their family apart. It was safe to say he stayed in bed a little longer than usual, stuck in his own head.

 

When he had dragged himself out of his bed and gotten dressed he ran into Dean in the hallway, making him jump.

 

“Jesus, Sammy!” he sighed, gently shoving him by his shoulder. Seeing his older brother as young as he was wasn’t helping him forget about the life he could have had instead of risking his life every day for the greater good which, subsequently, is what's causing him to get younger by the day. “Why are you just now getting out of bed?”

 

“Thinking,” he answered feebly as he started walking down the hallway to the stairs that lead down to the cold, dank room containing row after row of relics, old books, artifacts, and too many journals to count.

 

“That’s dangerous. What about?” Dean muttered, jogging ahead to walk beside him down the stairs. Sam didn’t bother answering, not wanting to bring up his problems to his big brother who would just put it on his shoulders and blame every misfortune in Sam's life onto himself, that if he was a better brother maybe he could have protected his baby brother from every single bad thing in the world. While Dean had gotten better with letting Sam remind him that not everything is his fault and that he needs to stop putting all the heat on himself, it’s still tough.

 

“Just thinking about how much I hate this whole getting younger thing. I can’t stand these bangs,” he grumbled, blowing the offending locks out of his eyes for what seemed like the tenth time this morning. It pulled a laugh out of the older and they dropped it.

 

**Eleven Days After the Spell**

 

It was around five in the afternoon when Castiel, Sam, and Dean all embarked on a trip to the nearest bar to the bunker so Sam could get as plastered as possible while it was still technically legal for him to do so. The closest bar was still pretty far from the secluded building once belonging to the Men of Letters and that meant a half hour drive with Dean driving the car. By Dean driving the car, he means if you’re speeding.

 

Much like yesterday the younger Winchester can’t stop himself from being sucked into his own head and quietly staring at the slowly sinking sun from where he sat in the passenger seat. The brunette was getting dangerously close to being a teenager again, then after that it meant no longer being adult and his childhood hadn’t been all sunshine and roses. It wasn’t something he wanted to repeat nor think about any further.

 

He hoped Rowena was having better luck with books than they were because every single box they unearthed from the dust and spider webs of the basement was yet another empty disappointment. In a day or two they would be completely out of boxes and it had Sam’s stomach tied up in enough knots that for once he was going to let himself get as drunk as possible while he usually liked to retain at least some level of self-control.

 

Castiel hasn’t been too talkative either, more than usual anyways, seeing as the angel was never much of a conversationalist to begin with. While the brothers can read each other rather easily it’s always difficult to tell anything that the celestial being is thinking. The most they can tell is that he’s thinking about something particularly perplexing which could be a number of things currently. There’s the obvious answer, he’s thinking about the spell and how they were quickly running out of solutions to their problems but of course Cass had just about a million other things besides that occupying his mind at the moment.

 

Things like what are the odds of Rowena knowing the way to fix this if nobody in heaven has yet to identify what sort of magic has fallen upon the Winchesters let alone come up with a way to solve this? If they get too young to take care of themselves properly, who will take care of them? Will this spell just keep forcing them to get younger, or is there an age they’ll stay at once they get to that point? Then there’s one that not a single one of the three have dared to bring up despite it being the center of all their thoughts. What was going to happen if they couldn’t stop the spell? Would they die or just stop existing all together? How could you go to heaven or hell or even purgatory if you were never born to begin with?

 

All of this gave a bitter air to the ‘celebratory’ dinner as Dean pulled into the parking lot of a small, rickety bar. Plastering a cocky smirk to his face he turns the car off and turns to his brother.

 

“Ready to celebrate your twenty-first birthday, pal?” he teases, causing the taller to roll his eyes and shove his older brother towards the driver side door as he climbs out of his own door.

 

“Shut up. I’m still thirty-two,” Castiel opened his mouth to correct the young Winchester and then immediately snapped his jaw shit and swallowed what he was about to say about him not actually being in his thirties anymore despite his mental state at the glare that Sam sent his way. “But, might as well get drunk off my ass and enjoy it while I can.”

 

“That’s the spirit, Sammy!”

 

**Twelve Days After the Spell**

 

“Any word from Rowena yet?” Sam mumbled, peeking out from underneath the arm he had over his head to protect his eyes from the harsh glare of the bunker lights.

 

And by harsh, glaring lights he means the few dim lights from the lamps dispersed around their home that are doing nothing for the throbbing hangover headache as the constant reminder of why he tries to control his drinking.

 

The amount of alcohol Sam consumed last night had been enough to impress Dean and even earn him a worried look and a reminder to ‘take it easy, kid.’ To which Sam choked down another shot of liquor so the burn in his throat would distract him from the fact that soon he couldn’t get mad at Dean for calling him a kid because he would actually be one.

 

As per usual, large quantities of liquor always ended the same way for Sam. Spending an hour curled up around the can on the bathroom floor and then waking up in his bed the next morning with a splitting head ache and no recollection of when he ditched his pants and crawled underneath the covers. The pounding in his head could easily be dealt with by simply asking Cass to help a guy out and do his angel healing thing but the mindless sensation of a headache was enough to keep him from thinking about how he was twenty years old now and a day away from being a teenager all over again.

 

“Nothing since she told us to look through the bunker storage for spell books,” Castiel sighed, pacing in front of the couch Sam was sprawled out on, gangly legs flung wherever he could fit them. Dean gave his friend a wary look from where he sat in the recliner next to the couch.

 

“You tryna pace a hole through the floor buddy?” he teased. “Because there are better ways to do that.”

 

“My apologies, I’ve just been lost in thought,” he muttered too distracted to acknowledge the sarcasm in Dean’s voice. With a sigh, the green eyed male stood up from the couch and rested a hand on top of one of his trench coat clad shoulders, getting him to stop with the mindless walking.

 

“Cass. You need to calm down, pal” Dean tells him, creating the eye contact he usually tries to shy away from uncomfortably. When his piercing blue eyes peer into the other’s emerald ones and he knows that the angel is finally paying attention he sighs. “We’ve been through shit worse than this. We fought the damn devil and won for Christ’s sake!”

 

From where he lay across the couch Sam scoffed. “Just barely averted that crisis. Not to mention the psychological damage it caused to me and Cass.”

 

“Not helping, Sammy,” Dean barked over at his brother sparing him a heated glance before going back to focus on his nervous friend. “I’m not gonna promise we’re gonna make it through this because I don’t wanna lie to you, but we’re not going to stop fighting. We need you to pull it together and keep fighting, pal. Got that?”

 

Castiel was still unsure and anxious but the pep talk had had a comforting effect to his frayed nerves and he dropped all the tension he hadn’t realized he had gathered in his shoulders. “I’ll contact Rowena and ask her how the search is going. After that we should go back to looking through the storage for anything to help," he nods before turning on his heel to walk to the library so he can call the busy witch.

 

Turning back to his little brother Dean grins down at him, knowing the signs of a monster hangover when he sees one. “How you doin’ Sammy?” He squats down beside the couch and claps a hand down on the arm drooping over his eyes, making the brunette flinch. “I was thinking for lunch we go out and find the greasiest burger in the entire country and just chow down, eh?” Sam groans his displeasure at the sentiment and weakly tries to shove his pest of an older brother away.

 

“If you make me throw up I’m aiming at you.”

 

**Fifteen Days After the Spell**

 

Sam’s a teenager now and Dean’s isn’t too far behind him. There really isn’t much joking or festivities these days. Not much talking at all as they rummage through the last few boxes with a few simple spell books that they are nearly positive have nothing helpful in. At the mercy of Rowena’s witch skills, the brothers spend most of their time alone while Castiel is in and out of the bunker, desperately searching for answers in heaven. While Sam holes himself up in his bedroom, quietly panicking about being seventeen, Dean spends his second time around being twenty-one getting shit faced behind his own locked bedroom door.

 

**Sixteen Days After the Spell**

 

Cass takes turns banging on both of the Winchester’s doors, yelling at them to come into the library, he’s got news. Neither of the two hunters are too happy to be pulled of their self-proclaimed isolation but Castiel can’t find himself to being bothered, not being able to stand their defeated moping about.

 

Sam dreads leaving his room after three days of sitting holed up in his room in his clothes that he’s practically swimming in at this point. He was sixteen and back to being the awkward scrawny kid he had been happy to grow out of as he got older. Shoving his bangs off of his forehead he reluctantly crept out of his room, glancing around nervously for his big brother. It seemed luck just wasn’t on his side as he caught sight of his now much taller brother.

 

Upon seeing Dean’s wince, he sighed and held his arms out in defeat, glaring up at him. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m tiny again, rub it in,” He practically growled.

 

“Sammy, I…” The older trailed off before sighing and shaking his head. “Your clothes are huge on you. Why don’t you go try and find something of mine that’ll fit at least a little bit better than those?” The lack of joking or teasing shocked Sam enough that he didn’t argue and instead found himself shuffling behind Dean back towards his room, having to literally hike up his pants legs to walk without tripping.

 

“I, uh…” The brunette starts and goes quiet before sending Dean a small smile. “Thanks.”

 

“Don’t mention it. I’m going to go see what’s got Cass’ panties in a twist,” He mutters before turning and heading out to do exactly that.

 

Easily slipping out of the flannel and jeans that were already falling off him to begin with he grabbed a t-shirt that looked like a decent enough fit that his shoulder won’t pop out of the neck hole. Matching it with a pair of jeans that were still pretty big on him he rolled the ends up and hoped the belt he found would help hold them up. Deciding to not even bother with trying to find a pair of shoes he made his way down the hallway towards Cass and Dean on socked feet.

 

\----

 

Dean wasn’t that much of a prick to have, upon seeing his now much smaller brother and the way he nervously scanned the hall for him, made fun of how small he had gotten. Technically it wasn’t a gross chick-flick moment if he let his brother take something from his limited wardrobe that might fight slightly better, he was just tired of seeing his brother all whiney and mopey, at least that’s what he told himself. Dean Winchester was NOT a sap. (The liar.) Heading out to see the very angel he had been trying to avoid he braced himself for the fidgeting nervous Castiel who replaced his normally unfazed pal.

 

It was somewhat of a nice surprise to see him a bit more relaxed than he had been in the past couple of days. Despite looking a little tired from all the trips back and forth to heaven and having to chat up every angel he could get the time of day from, he looked the calmest he’d been since before he got the idea that something was wrong with the Winchesters.

 

Upon seeing Dean there was a moment of brief surprise, seeing as he hadn’t really taken much time to check on the boys in the past few days, eyebrows shooting up before he carefully schooled his features. Neither of the hunters liked what was happening and the angel didn’t want them pushing him away right now, no matter how jarring it was to see Dean looking so young. “Dean, good morning.”

 

“Morning to you too, Cass. Any reason you forced us outta our rooms or where you just getting’ lonely out here?” He muttered, leaning back against one of the book shelves.

 

“I’ve got some news from Rowena finally,” That most definitely piqued Dean’s interest.

 

“Should’a lead with that, buddy,” He scoffed, pushing himself back up to standing straight, hands shoved in his pockets as he crept closer to his friend. “What’d she say? Did she find a counter spell?” It was around that time Sam made his way back into the kitchen, it was still a bit odd to see his once 6’4 brother back to being scrawny and 5’10.

 

“What did who say?” He muttered, walking in on the conversation. His eyes widened when he realized the only person they could be talking about. “Rowena?”

 

“Yes. She says she’s looked through the Book of the Damned and her other books and has some news for us. I didn’t get many specifics but she sounded pretty confident so I’m sure she’s going to spend most of our meeting boasting her superior witch skills,” Cass explained. “She wants to meet us at a restaurant near the area of the warehouse we met at first and said she will discuss it there.”

 

That made both the brothers pause a bit. “Restaurant? Like, out in public restaurant? Like, me, tiny sixteen-year-old Sam out in public?” Sam was bewildered, he didn’t even want to be around his brother and best friend like this. What in Castiel’s right mind made him think he was going to go out and have people gawk at him, let alone Rowena?

 

“You’re not going to see anybody you know,” The blue-eyed male raised an eyebrow, looking confused as to why he would care. “Besides, even on the off chance you do run into somebody, they aren’t going to recognize you.” He looked to Dean for support on the matter but the older hunter looked a bit worried himself.

 

“C’mon, Sammy. Cass is right about this. Much as I hate going out like this we might be back to normal by the end of this fuck fest. We’re going,” Dean nodded at Cass before heading toward the rickety stairs up to the exit of the bunker, grabbing his leather jacket on his way out. With a frustrated grunt, Sam threw his arms up in frustration, feeling like nobody was listening to him and then immediately throwing himself into a pit of self-loathing at how similar to an actual teenager he was being right now. Shuddering, he just huffily followed after Castiel, grabbing a hoodie that had fit back when he was in college and reluctantly left the bunker.

 

\-----

 

By the time they pulled into a small joint off of highway 36 called Jiffy Burger it was around noon and Dean was happy to see the small, retro restaurant. With a grin, he clapped a hand down onto the steering wheel. “Gotta hand it to Rowena,” he turned towards his little brother who had been sulking the entire trip. “She really knows how to pick a joint.” With that he was out of his baby, waiting for the other two to climb out before he locked her up. The blonde went ahead in, eager for a good cheeseburger and whatever deep fried food he could get his hands on while Sam and Cass hung back a few feet behind him.

 

“This looks like the last place on Earth Rowena would pick to eat,” Sam mumbled, hovering around the angel. It was dumb but he knew that his friend had always been stronger than him, what with being an angel and all, and right now he couldn’t help but feel a million times more vulnerable now that he was small and without the muscles he had grown used to. So yeah, he stood a little close to the mythical being that could burn whatever came at them’s eye sockets out with two fingers to the forehead. Sue him.

 

“Agreed,” He muttered in his gruff voice before finally carrying on after Dean and heading into the small roadside restaurant. Inside of the tiny building gave off a definite 50’s vibe with the checkered white and black linoleum and the red booths bolted to the floors around the tables. A quick look around showed that the witch they were looking for was tucked into the corner booth, hands and arms pointedly off the table that in all honestly didn’t look like it had been cleaned in a while. The red head glared ahead of her at the black and white photographs of greasers and old rock stars framed to the wall, looking out of place with her ironed pantsuit. Another quick look revealed Dean with a goofy expression on his face as he headed away from the small counter where you ordered your food and back towards his brother and friend.

 

“I’m not sure there is a thing on that menu that won’t give you some sort of heart attack or heart burn and I’m lovin’ it,” He grinned, looking very much like the young twenty-year-old he resembled currently. Sam gave a small nod towards where Rowena was finally looking up to acknowledge them. Dean’s smile didn’t falter whatsoever as he swaggered over to the disgruntled witch. “Nice pick, if I do say so myself.”

 

“Ha ha,” She sneered up at him. “Don’t go flatterin’ yourself thinkin’ I picked this place for you. There’s practically nothing in this empty town. Certainly, no place like where I would have chosen to meet, that’s for bloody sure.” Once she was done with her mini rant she gave a pointed look to the seats. “Well don’t just stand there! I don’t want’a be here any longer than I have to,” Rowena huffed, slumping a bit in her seat. The two hunters slid into the booth, Dean annoying Sam by purposely squishing him too tightly up against the wall, just because he could with the new size difference. Castiel stood at the end of the table, not wanting to crowd the two boys and not wanting to sit next to the witch either.

 

“Well then, get to it. What’s your news?” Cass grunted. Rolling her eyes, Rowena crossed her arms and gave out a melodramatic sigh like she was purposely being put into a difficult situation.

 

“There’s no spell in any of my books to reverse what’s been done to either of ya,” She said it blatantly and with a smile on her face that made Dean want to rip the gun out of his pocket and fill her with witch killing bullets that she was most likely immune to. It would at least relieve some stress, he thought. “However!” She started and all three of the men around her were about to strangle her with the dramatic pause she just HAD to include in her little act. “I might be able to come up with my own spell for it.”

 

There was a quiet moment where none of them said anything, just sat there, staring at her blankly until Castiel spoke up. “You can do that?”

 

“Of course!” Rowena raised her hand to rest on her chest in mock astonishment. “What do you take me for, some amateur witch with no skill to be heard of? Even the most amateur in the coven could have whipped together a small spell themselves,” None of them looked rather convinced, much to her annoyance.

 

“There’s got to be a but somewhere here. If this was a clear-cut plan you would have done this in the first place and skipped the spell books,” Dean squinted over at her accusingly, forever wary of her motives. With a roll of her olive colored eyes she leaned an uninterested elbow onto the table, glaring at the hunter.

 

“Well, seeing as there isn’t any spells created to fix something like this, I believe you should be on your knees on the greasy tile and thanking me,” She hissed out sharply. “A documented spell is more predictable. A spell of your own creating isn’t exactly ineffective, it’s just slightly more unpredictable than one that has been tested on others.”

 

“Very reassuring,” Sammy elbowed his brother at the sarcastic comment, cutting him off.

 

“Look, Dean. As much as I hate to admit it, Rowena is good at witchcraft and this is our best bet,” The brunette sighed, pinning him with his signature Sammy bitch face. “Hate to break it to you but we’re running out of time here. In less than a week I’ll be single digits and in a little over a week you’ll be in the same boat. Let her explain,” That managed to keep the taller quiet, gritting his teeth, the blonde gave a tense nod for her to continue.

 

“As I was, the spell I’m making will be done soon and if all goes well you’ll be back to tip-top shape and hunting monsters in your much more appealing grown-up bodies,” she finished, grinning while she stared down to inspect her perfectly manicured nails as if she was bored.

 

“How soon is soon?” It was Castiel asking the questions now. The redhead’s gaze shot up from her nails to glare at the angel.

 

“Soon is whenever I damn say it is,” She bites out. “Unless of course you’d like a spell that would tear your precious boys in half rather than age them up a bit.” Rowena slid out of the booth, done with all of their doubt. When has her magic ever done anything besides what it was supposed to do? Such an accomplished witch should be treated with much more respect. At least that’s what she was thinking as she turned to give them a tight-lipped smile. “Until next time, boys.” With that she left and Dean didn’t bother to pay more attention than watching the glass door swing shut before he was thinking about all the food listed on the menu that had him practically drooling.

 

“So, it looks like we’re back to the waiting game,” Sam gritted out, burying his head in his arms, frustrated with the complete lack of results so far. He just wants to be back to normal, he hates feeling this small and weak and maybe the physical size wouldn’t bother him that much but he was starting to act like a teenager as well. It was infuriating and it didn’t help that Dean was seemingly unaffected as he grinned over at Cass as he tiredly slid into the booth seat where Rowena had been sitting.

 

“We’re gonna grab some food before we leave, right?” he beamed. “Because those burgers are calling my name.”


	5. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost a month since I last updated and I'm sorry about that. Lot of shit going on. I didn't have any finals today so i managed to get this finished! Gotta warn you, this is a pretty shitty chapter to me. I got some angst I wanted to write and shit but I know this is poorly written even though it should be top fucking notch since it took over three weeks, I'm sorry. (I'm sick so let's just blame it on that)
> 
> Summer's coming up and I'm not too sure how much writing I'll be doing during the summer because I don't like writing when people are around and I'm going to be a counselor at a camp and by the time i get home my parents are home so the only time I'd get to write is late at night and I'm sorry I'm gonna be shitty with updating but I'll try!!
> 
> anyways, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

After spending another twenty minutes inside of the Jiffy Burger, Dean stuffing his face with the greasiest things off the menu while Sam poked at his chicken tenders with a French fry, they all three piled back into the impala.

“C’mon Sammy! Lighten up a little,” Dean murmured, nudging his younger brother with his elbow. “we’re not completely hopeless anymore!”

“We’re not completely out of the doghouse either,” The brunette huffed, glaring out of the window to his rights, trying to burn a hole through the blurry line of trees rushing by. 

Dean wasn’t an optimistic guy. Hell, he didn’t believe himself that this whole situation was going to turn out alright by the end of the day. It didn’t change the fact that his little brother was having an extremely rough time with this whole de-aging thing. Not to say the elder of the two wasn’t quite distressed himself because he was. It was like a 24/7 internal panic attack since he first realized he was steadily getting younger. How long he could keep up acting like this didn’t affect him nearly as much as it actually did until he crashed and burned? That was to be determined at a later date.

“While I don’t want either of you to give up hope because I know the effects and how unhealthily you two deal with defeat, I don’t want you getting your hopes up either,” castile spoke up from where he leaned his head forward and over the top of the front bench. “It’s best to stay neutral.”

Snorting, he rolled his bright green eyes, and spared a glance at the dark, wild hair in his peripheral. “Easy for you to say when you’ve had centuries of being well-practiced in the art of not giving a fuck.”

“I wouldn’t-that’s sort of-” Cass struggled with his words before sighing and settling on a, “Alright.” Before slumping into the backseat and staring ahead and out of the front wind shield. It was quiet for a couple of minutes before the angel grumpily spoke up that he, in fact, did give some fucks, making Dean laugh and Sam bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from chucking. He was supposed to be brooding, dammit.

“Alright, alright. I know you give fucks now, Cass. It’s just, aren’t emotions sort of a foreign thing for angels?” Dean spoke up once he was done snickering at his friend’s expense. There was a pause as Castiel gave that a thought.

“I suppose? It’s not like we don’t feel anything, all angels are capable of feeling. It’s more along the lines that since the beginning of creation we are told to be soldiers of heaven, to do as told and nothing else. When everything is black and white there’s no need for disagreements or emotions,” He fiddled with the cuffs of his coat. “Then I came to Earth and everything that had been in such distinct black and white my whole existence blended into confusing shades of grey that threw everything off. Humans are very confusing.” Dean snorted.

“You’re tellin’ me, pal,” Dean gave a playful smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes before flicking them back to the road ahead of them. “Monsters? Demons? Angels? They make sense, but people? People are the real wild cards.” People who decide to go down the road of dark magic and deals with demons in particular. People who choose the easy way out and learn magic with horrid consequences instead of working for it yourself. People who are huge nutcases and turn two grown men into teenagers just for kicks. The car was uncomfortable with the suffocating lack of conversation blanketing the three of them.

Having spent a decent amount of time on Earth now, Castiel most definitely knew an awkward silence when he heard one. Or didn’t hear anything, more like it. Now if he were anybody else, Dean would respond in clipped, unresponsive phrases if he were to try and ask a question or break the silence, but despite the fact that the angel has learned up on social cues humans used, both hunters still viewed him as clueless. Cass wasn’t clueless, but he would use the fact that others thought he was to break the deafening quiet.

“Is there any places to get clothes nearby?” he asked, leaned close up behind the driver’s seat so he could squint out at the asphalt veering out of sight behind the trees. Dean, who had been deep in thought when his friend spoke up, swerved the impala for a second, cursing, before glancing back at Castiel. 

“What? I don’t-what?” He tripped over his words, taking turns from staring ahead at the road and giving the celestial being sitting in the back of his car and asking about the nearest place to go shopping an incredulous look. “About twenty minutes the opposite direction, why? I thought your clothes stayed perfect with, I dunno, angelic dry cleaning powers?”

“The clothes are not for me,” he explained. Sam and Dean swapped a quick look after waiting a few moments for Cass to continue but finding no response.

“Care to explain? Or are you just gonna be cryptic the whole ride back home?” Dean chuckled, the laugh sounding forced and anwkward.

“For Sam?” He asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m not sure if you haven’t noticed, but he’s not exactly the appropriate size for the clothing he’s wearing currently.” Sam shifted uncomfortably at what he didn’t want anyone to acknowledge being brought up right in front of his face. 

Speaking of his face, he could feel it heating up at just the mention of no longer being the height he used to be. Shoving his hoodie up around the bottom half of his face he glared out the window to his right, acting exactly like the teenager he did not want to be. It wasn’t like he could help being upset, he had always hated how tall his brother and father seemed in comparison to how tiny he had been throughout most of his life until he hit some major growth spurts around the time he turned seventeen.

“He’s not gonna be like that for long, Cass. There’s no point in wasting the money,” the older hunter wasn’t even putting up fake smiles and interspersing chuckles through their conversation. His voice was cold and bordering an argumentative tone. 

“It will take a couple of days for Rowena to finish up the spell, Dean,” there was an edge of a growl in the angel’s voice as well as he started getting defensive at Dean’s accusatory tone. “None of the clothes you two have in the bunker will fit him and he’s just going to get smaller.” Sam flinched at the mention of him becoming even tinier than he was, he already felt like he was a little kid again just having to look up to talk to either Cass or Dean.

“It doesn’t matter. This is going to be problem solved in a few days, max. Right, Sammy?” Harsh green eyes flicked over to where his little brother was pointedly looking anywhere but at the two of them, wanting to stay out of the argument completely. While Sam would rather keel over then go shop for clothes in the junior section of some strip mall, he had to admit that wearing clothes twice the size of him was getting annoying.

“He agrees with me,” Cass spoke up, tearing the green laser beams that were trained on the side of Sam’s face away. 

“You can’t just look in one someone’s mind like that, Cass!” He grunted, grudgingly turning the car around right in the middle of the road, seeing as there’s rarely another car within five miles of you in Lebanon.

“It was obvious that he wasn’t going to give us a definitive answer,” he mumbled, back to his nonplussed demeanor as he sat back against the leather bench seat of the Chevy. Dean just rolled his eyes and adjusted his grip in the wheel from where he had been gripping it too tight.

“Privacy, Cass. How many times have I gotta explain it to you before it sticks?” He muttered under his breath, only half meaning it. Castiel wanted to add that maybe if the blonde hadn’t flung himself off the handle so quickly then Sam could have just answered the question without any of his powers getting involved, but he knew that would just cause more conflict. Something they didn’t need nowadays. 

Dean was tense and irritable at sitting back helplessly and couldn’t just avoid his problems by hunting, seeing as he didn’t want to be a huge dick and leave his baby brother at home because he was getting too young to be helpful in a fight. Besides, even without the quickly ended debacle Sam most likely would not have spoken up about thinking the clothes were a good idea, seeing as how his head was now completely inside of his oversized hoodie and was obviously embarrassed. 

Castiel didn’t understand why it was such a big deal for him to buy clothes that were smaller. So what if they were in a section that was for teenagers? Wasn’t he technically a teenager now despite his obviously adult mindset? Humans fragile egos would never make sense to Cass. It’s not as though either can help the fact that they’re slowly regressing in age because of some witch got one over on them so why should the entire situation be considered the huge embarrassment the Winchesters were making it out to be? 

If anything, it would be a chance at a better childhood than what they had been given. In fact, if the angel had been their father he would have made sure that the way they lived as children would be much better. John Winchester was a man hellbent on revenge who tried to do his best for his kids and while he did try, it didn’t help that Dean had been raised as more of a soldier and a parent himself than a kid. While Sam has Dean to look after him and raise him when they were younger, it didn’t help that his relationship with his father was never great either. Castiel would definitely treat them better, were they his kids.

The angel blinked slowly. Where the hell was he going with this? Once he had pulled himself out of his thoughts he was surprised with how unsurprised he was to be stuck on that train of thought. It wasn’t a new thing for him to think about how despite his best efforts after Mary had died, John was a rather poor parent. Leaving his two young kids on their own for days at a time with barely enough money for food was a real half-brained idea. Cass figured if anybody thought about the brother’s bringing up for long enough that anybody would gladly liked to have taken them away from their well-meaning father and give them a much better life than what they were destined to have. But the possibility that that might come true is a different thing entirely.

Mentally shaking his head, he out the idea away for a while, figuring that line of thought wouldn’t be appreciated by the two sitting just in front of him. While he did want the two brothers back to their mid-thirties, happy and kicking ass again, he admitted that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if they got to be kids for a little while longer.

\-----

Why nobody ever listened to Dean, he didn’t know. But it felt pretty damn good to send a smug grin over at the angel when as soon as the stepped into the department store and his little brother predictably clammed up immediately and refused to start walking towards the teen boy’s clothing section. It had taken ten minutes of Cass trying to gently nudge him towards the clothes, but Sam just tried to bury his cherry red face in the front of his hoodie. Eventually the angel gave up, muttering about ridiculously stubborn Winchester boys as he went and grabbed some clothes for Sam himself.

The two hunters walked out, sitting on the benches in front of the store as they waited for their angel to stomp out of the store, a large plastic bag in one hand and an unamused glare piercing through Dean’s skull as he flashed his pearly whites in a smug sneer. Sam tried to slink down into his sweatshirt, yet again, mumbling a barely audible apology to the angel who just sighed heavily, tense shoulders slumping. 

“It’s alright, Sam. While I don’t understand why it’s that big of a deal I’m not going to force you do to do something you don’t want to do,” Cass mumbled, squinting out into the sea of parked cars, easily finding the impala amongst the dull grey cars and various mini-vans. “Let’s just go back to the bunker so you can get into clothes that fit better.” Of course, who knows if he had even gotten the right size of clothes seeing as Castiel just had to eyeball what clothing might fit the boy. 

Sam gladly pushed himself off of the bench and followed after his friend, not wanting to be in public for any longer than he had to. Dean, still chuckling to himself about his little victory followed after the two. His cocky grin and pompous attitude didn’t show any signs of faltering until Sam cleared his throat from where he sat in the front seat and smirked slyly up at his big brother before asking;

“Aren’t you going to be the one who needs smaller clothes next, Dean?” The little shit asks in a mock innocent voice that the older Winchester doesn’t buy for a single second. Reaching a hand off the wheel to shove his little brother roughly into the door he sends him a half-hearted glare.

“Yeah, yeah. Rub it in,” he mutters under his breath before refocusing on the road ahead of them. “Hopefully we’ll be cured before I turn into a midget like you.” This time Dean was the one being shoved, both of them laughing. Dean didn’t have it in him to get mad at Sam right now, not when he’d pulled his head out of the permanent storm cloud hovering over top of him since he hit teen years to make a joke at his older brother’s expense. As much as he liked to deny every single chick flick moment he’s found himself caught up in, he was starting to get worried for Sam, not liking him seem so crushed and hopeless with those ridiculously pitiful puppy dog eyes. Which, now that he mentions it, the puppy dog eyes are only about a million times worse now that Sam is back to being his runt of a little brother. So, yeah. Dean’s happy to play fight with his little brother while Castiel tries to hide his smile at the two of them joking around.

\-----

It’s three days since the boys last saw Rowena and three days of delicately skirting around the situation in every conversation. Castiel quickly learned that bringing up either of the brother’s ages or current physical states came up with unpleasant reactions that took forever to pass, if they passed at all. Sam tended to sit quietly and focus entirely on not throwing up and Dean tended to break things then both brothers would end up locking themselves away in some random part of the bunker for a while. 

While the angel understood that the situation was less than ideal and that the Winchesters, for once in their life, couldn’t do anything but rely on somebody who sat on the border of ally and enemy. There was no guarantee that she was actually going to help them, and on the off-chance Rowena was feeling generous who knows if it would even work. Unfortunately, she was their only hope at this point and while they had to require the help from rather undesirable characters they never had to rely solely on said person or demon or whatever creature it was that week. Cass understood they were having a tough time with this but what he didn’t understand was how ridiculously they were acting. Physical torture? Laying on your deathbed? Apparently, they could handle that easily but the moment there’s a risk of turning back into a teenager? Everything goes to hell.

Castiel wasn’t naïve. He knows they weren’t just scared of being younger. It was a bit more complicated than just that. Both the hunters relied on their physical strength to keep them and other people safe, they saved lives and were good at it. Getting smaller and younger meant getting weaker and the two were terrified of being defenseless like that. Not to mention they were most likely beating themselves up over the fact they couldn’t go out and save people and hunt the sons ‘a bitches that put those people in danger in the first place. 

Cass had tried multiple times to remind them that this wasn’t their fault and things are going to be alright and it was safe to say that the angel was starting to get irritated that neither were listening to him. In fact, right now he was trying to talk to Sam, who had yet to come out of his room today, to come out and eat something. When the door of his room finally opened Castiel came to face to face, more like face to chest at this point, with the pissed off thirteen-year-old who was trying his best to glare bullet holes through his trench coat. He was wearing one of the plain t-shirts and jeans that he had gotten from the store and they must have been too small for him at sixteen because they were a near perfect fit now except for the jeans which covered Sam’s feet.

“I came to tell you that lunch is ready and that you should come an eat since you refused to go to breakfast,” To the angel’s confusion, Sam was refusing to come out of his room for even meals at this point. It was something he didn’t have to worry about with Dean who, even though he was spending more time away from everyone, never missed a meal or the million times a day he comes into the kitchen to grab a snack.

“Yeah, thanks Cass, but I’m not hungry right now,” the younger muttered, gripping the edge of the door, ready to slam it shut and lock it at moment’s notice. It didn’t take a celestial being’s intellect to tell that Sam was lying about not wanting to eat. He looked uncomfortable and fidgety as he stood in the doorway and rolled the hem of his grey t-shirt back and forth between his fingers, looking everywhere but into Castiel’s intense gaze. 

“You didn’t eat any breakfast,” the taller of the two pointed out, giving the small boy a worried look. Slowly Sam’s nerves were turning to anger and he was clenching his fists at his side and looked ready to slam the door but figuring it would be pointless seeing as an angel could easily rip it off his hinges. Castiel was being polite when he knocked on doors.

“Just leave me alone, okay? I don’t want to eat right now. I’m not hungry and you can’t make me eat,” the young Winchester knew that wasn’t quite true but he figured his friend wasn’t going to force feed him if he refused his lunch. To his surprise, Cass didn’t just sigh and relent trying to pull Sam out of his bad mood like he usually did when either of the brothers got stubborn, instead he looked like he was getting frustrated himself.

“So, you’re just going to stay in your room and starve yourself until Rowena finds a cure?” Castiel quirks his brow and gives Sam a look that reminds him of the way adults look when their scolding a little kid. It only proved to piss him off even more that he was being treated like the child his outward appearance resembled.

“Screw you, I can do what I want. In case you forgot, I’m still an adult,” He bites out, practically growling. A flash of amusement crosses Castiel’s features for a split second, quick enough that Sam wonders if he actually saw it or not.

“Listen, Sam, I understand you’re frustrate-”

“No!” Sam yells exasperatedly, throwing his arms up in the air. “You don’t understand at all! I was thirty-two and the size of a fucking bus almost three weeks ago and now I’m a scrawny teenager with zits and can’t even reach the top shelf in the bathroom!” His face was burning red as he continued to gesture wildly through his rant. “Do you know how mortifying it is to have been taller than everyone around you and then having to climb on top of the bathroom counter to get a towel off the shelf?” he hissed like he didn’t want anyone to hear despite Dean being hidden away in who the hell knows where within the labyrinth of the bunker. “And you! You’re talking down to me! You are treating me like I’m some overemotional teenager!” 

“I can assure you I’m not talking down to you in any way besides physically,” This time there’s no second guessing that there is amusement on his face as he speaks calmly to Sam. “And I apologize that you dislike the way I’m talking to you. Of course, I have to ask; If you don’t want me to talk to you like you’re a teenager then why are you acting like one?” The hunter went from outraged to confused to sickly pale within seconds and for a brief moment Castiel thought he might fall over. Sam folded his arms across his chest and trudged further into his room and sat down on the edge of his bed, staring at the angel’s dress shoes he always wore. He hadn’t closed the door or told him to fuck off so Cass took that as an invitation to walk forward as well until he was standing in front of the other. “Sam?”

“I really am acting like a teenager,” he huffed, sounding tired and upset. Castiel sat down next to him tentatively and not sure what to do he put his hands on his knees and stared straight forward, occasionally glancing at the other. “At first I thought it was just because this situation sucks but then I stubbed my toe and felt like throwing a desk at the wall and now I’m borderline crying over this stupid conversation and what the hell is wrong with me??”

“I actually think that’s the normal reaction to stubbing your toe. I’ve seen Dean bash a corner of the wall in with a sledge hammer before,” That managed to pull a laugh out of the younger Winchester which of course made the edge of Castiel’s lips twitch upwards as well. “As for everything else, you’re emotional because while mentally you still might be in your thirties, physically you’re a teenager.” For the first time since the door opened Sam looks up to make eye contact with the messy haired angel. “I mean seeing s how teenagers and their hormones usually cause then to be mor-”

“Okay, Cass, okay!! I get it, I’ve already had the puberty talk once you don’t need to force me to relive it!” Sam was yelling and laughing, one hand shoving Castiel away and the other covering one of his ears. Relieved to have one of the Winchesters without a scowl on their face Cass laughed along with him. “How do you know anything about teenagers anyways?” the brunette asked once the laughter died down a bit.

“When I found out that Claire was trying to hunt I read several parenting books and they all emphasize how hormonal teenagers are,” he explains while Sam stares at him incredulously. The all-powerful magic being sat down and read books on how to deal with teenagers and acted like that was a normal thing for an angel to do. “What?”

“Nothing. Thanks for telling me about lunch, I’ll be there in a minute,” Sam muttered, watching as Castiel gave him a reassuring smile and pushed off the end of the bed and headed out into the hallway. It was always so odd to see his friend being so…humanlike. When they first met, it was obvious they weren’t anything remotely similar, the way he walked seemed so mechanical, everything he did was like he was following directions to the T on how to be a robot. Back then it had been a job for the angel, something he had to do. Now it was Cass’ own free will to stay down here on earth, he was comfortable in his vessel and comfortable among his friends. 

So, to know that the guy had taken time to read up on how to be a parent to Claire when he could have dropped her and considered it not his problem anymore was very much un-angelic of him. For a split-second Sam sat there wishing his own father had been a little more like Castiel and put more effort into raising him and Dean. Shaking his head immediately as he caught himself on that train of thought he stood up and bolted out of his room. He was not going to acknowledge any of that, thank you very much.

When he finally made his way past the winding hallways and into the kitchen Dean was sitting at the island and was throwing French fries at Cass while he just stood there glaring at him. Sam couldn’t help but laugh at how stupid the whole scene was. Upon hearing the other snickering, Dean grinned and glanced over before shushing him and aiming another french fry at the mess of dark hair on top of their friend’s head. Wanting to see how this turned out Sam stayed quiet and stood next to his older brother.

“Dean. Do not,” Cass commanded with his deep gravelly voice, squinting his eyes and raising an eyebrow for a challenge. Obviously, the hunter didn’t heed his warning and landed a french fry right on top of the angel’s head. Both Winchester boys busted out laughing, Dean scrambling out of his chair as Castiel started walking around the counter towards him, knocking the fry off and onto the floor.

“C’mon Cass! That was fucking funny!” Dean was grinning as the two of them circled around the counter, even the stone-faced angel was starting to grin as he swiped his arm out to try and whack the blonde who quickly dodged.

Rolling his eyes Sam sat down and tugged an untouched plate of food towards himself and started on his lunch while the other two ran from the kitchen to the library and back. Nothing was solved by coming out and eating lunch with his family but he had to admit that it was better than sitting alone and glaring at the wall and feeling sorry for himself. If they couldn’t come up with an immediate cure for this, at least he can take comfort in that he’s not going to have to face this alone.


	6. What's Eating Dean Winchester?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another late chapter. Almost three weeks to make this one, bluh!! I actually got this written in just a week and a half but started a week late because people were home all week and I don't like to write when people are around so this is late.
> 
> But on a much happier note, A NEW CHAPTER!! With a clever ass title that I'm patting myself on the back for, hell fuckin' yeah, man. The story so far has been a bit more focused on Sam up until this point and I didn't mean to focus the story on one individual character but it just turned out that way since he is younger than Dean and turns into a teen first. So for any of y'all who are a big Dean fan, here's a more Dean-centric chapter!

Castiel liked to think that he had handled Sam’s outburst rather well. Although it could have gone better and they could have avoided the melt down earlier of he was a bit more read up on the subject. Which is exactly why after the boys finished eating lunch and went to watch some action movie that Cass didn’t pay all that much attention to he left the bunker and to the closest book store to find several more parenting books. 

It should have been slightly odd, him buying books on what first time parents should do with their children when in actuality he was just trying to deal with his two slowly de-aging friends new found emotions and how quickly said emotions were spiraling out of control. Even though he was an angel with no concepts of what and what isn’t socially acceptable he knew that both the hunters would be protesting this tooth and nail. 

He knows it should be weird but he was determined that if the boys were going to be children again, even just for a few days that Castiel would give them a much better experience than the poor childhood John had provided. Before he could get tugged into that train of thought (and trust me, he could go on for hours about better ways he could have raised the two boys, many of them not including hunting, for hours) he took the small stack of books he had just purchased and sat at one of the tables at the coffee shop attached to the book shop. 

It might have been easier if he just googled whatever he needed to know or search for a few parenting advice blog articles but he didn’t trust the internet. After having a freak out about the fact that there were singles in his area looking for him and having ran straight to Dean about it he had learned that you can’t take the computer at face value. Books were much more straight forward and had much fewer distractions. Cass learned that as well while they were researching for a hunt he got side tracked and played solitaire for three hours before he realized that he hadn’t found anything on the monster of the week.

After sitting there for a few minutes and leafing through the introductions to the books he figured he had enough information now and that he should get back to the bunker before the two would notice he’s gone. While he himself isn’t ashamed of his books, he knows the Winchesters would throw twin tantrums if they found out what Castiel is up to.

Gripping his shopping bags, he flies his way to the general area of where the bunker should be. The warding on the bunker keeps it hidden from ‘angel radar’ as Dean puts it. Meaning he can’t just fly into the bunker as he pleases and can never land right at the entrance. It takes a couple minutes’ walk to find the door and when he does he tries to quietly sneak past the door and it’s screaming hinges and the nearly gunshot loud sound of it closing. 

Once he’s managed to slink off to the room where he keeps his few belongings and drop the books off he goes off to find where Sam and Dean are. It brings a smile to his face that instead of the two of them being holed up alone who knows where, they’re sitting at the TV and playing on the gaming system that Charlie had let them borrow a while ago.

The two of them are shoving each other back and forth to try and get them to swerve off the track in what looks like an animated racing game. Dean veers off the side of the road and runs through a water fall before falling off a cliff. Cursing loudly, he shoves his triumphant little brother over while he laughs. Castiel can’t quite understand what the excitement over this particular game is but he can enjoy the fact that the brothers seem to be enjoying themselves and goes to sit on the couch behind where the two are sitting on the floor, practically glued to the television.

\------Day Twenty & Twenty-One-----

In the wake of Sam’s epiphany things were calm for almost two days. After the boys had finished with the racing game, good naturedly arguing over who had won when they both had fallen off the space themed road of their last game several times they had all helped make dinner. 

It had been odd to just do something as domestic as cook a meal with the two extraordinary hunters. There were stories and legends being passed around by other hunters all across America, they had stopped the devil and the apocalypse, dealt with monsters, demons, and angels without breaking a sweat. To be standing there watching the two brothers just be brothers and joke around while doing something as domestic as fixing up a meal was an opportunity Castiel would have done anything to be there for. 

Cass stood to the side while the Winchesters worked in the kitchen, not wanting to break the happy spell that had been cast upon the room, and couldn’t help but notice that the two of them were acting unmistakably younger than they actually were. While Dean usually made simple-minded, usually inappropriate jokes Sam had joined in and the both of them were joking and giggling like…well, teenagers. It warmed his heart to see the boys and for the first time since they had been cursed, found himself hoping that the boys would stay younger longer than the few days they had until Rowena finished up her spell. Sam and Dean just looked so undeniably happy like this.

The angel had stepped in then, asking for something to do so he could distract himself.

After dinner, the three went their separate ways for the rest of the night and in the morning, they all gathered in the kitchen again for breakfast. The light mood that had been refreshing and very much welcomed last night was gone and some of the same tenseness was back. Although Sam was trying his best to be a bit more rational about their situation and wasn’t trying to contribute to Dean’s brooding. Which was something Cass greatly appreciated seeing as how the younger Winchester very much wanted to freak out and slam the door behind him and bury himself in his bed, seeing as today he was twelve and not even a teenager any more.

No, instead of Sam being the one flaking out on them, today it was Dean. Of course, he had been a bit tightly wound since they found out they were regressing but he had handled it and tried to shoulder through this like it wasn’t bothering him. His usual coping method of avoidance was not working and all morning through the meal he was fidgety and distant, rarely responding to any questions the two asked. Then as soon as he was finished eating he left to wander around the bunker and hide out for a while, not even putting his dishes into the sink on his way out.

Sam had just shrugged and given a conciliatory “It’s probably just an off day for him.” And that was that. Castiel didn’t see too much of the older hunter for the rest of the day and had to send him a text message that lunch and dinner were ready despite the both of them being in the same building. When the grumpy Winchester did come out of wherever he holed himself away he hadn’t said much and it was starting to make everyone uneasy.

It wasn’t until the next morning when the almost forty-eight hours of peaceful calm was broken when he had to all but drag Sam out of his room for breakfast. Not that he would say it out loud but he felt like he was playing the dad when he had to argue with the boy that he needed to eat something and he gave a melodramatic excuse that ‘missing one stupid breakfast won’t kill me!’ 

“I understand you’re upset, Sam, but really?” the disgruntled angel huffed as he stood in the doorway to the brunette’s room, keeping him from slamming the door and shutting him out. “I thought we had come to an agreement that this behavior is hypocritical to your insistence that you’re not a child?”

“I’m not a kid!” he yelled back, throwing a pillow to hit his friend’s unblinking face and join the other plush projectile on the floor by his feet. “I’m not a kid, but look at me! I’m stuck in this stupid eleven year old body and I’m emotional and I can’t sit still like I’m an actual kid and I hate it!” 

Eventually Castiel did manage to calm the upset Winchester down and get him to come out and eat some breakfast but by that time, one of the two plates that had been set out was cleared off and left to sit on the counter. Looks like Dean was going to be spending the whole day sulking, yet again. Tired of having to deal with the two of them acting like little kids who were deadest on convincing anybody who would listen that they weren’t children he set off through the halls of the bunker to find him and get him to at least put his dishes into the sink.

Dean couldn’t be far from the kitchen so it wouldn’t take to long for Castiel to find him if he listened closely for the sound of Dean’s work boots thumping through the echoing hallways. Things would be a lot easier if he could just locate Dean with some of his angel mojo but between the heavy warding of the bunker and the warding engraved into the Winchesters’ ribs it wouldn’t do anything. How humans found people without the help of grace, Cass had no idea.

Hearing a faint tune of some type of music float in from the left of where a few of the hallways intersected, the angel made his way towards the sound of the song. Turning down a few more corridors and a staircase or two he eventually found the source of the music in one of the basement rooms. Turns out he could get pretty far from the kitchen in that short period of time. Leave it up to a stubborn Winchester to make everything that much more difficult.

Dean was sitting with his back to the door sitting amongst a few short stacks of vinyl sleeves while one record was blaring on the dusty old Men of Letters phonograph. Despite the obnoxiously loud music, Castiel knew that the other was aware of his presence by the tense, defensive way he was hunching his shoulders as he sorted through a couple of Beatles vinyls.

“Dean,” Cass started, taking another step closer. At the lack of a response he repeated himself, this time a bit louder to be heard over the music. “Dean.” 

The blonde boy just huffed out a sigh and reached over to the phonograph to lift the needle off the track and turn to glare up at his friend. “What? What do you want, Cass?”

Dean was fifteen now and had a lot more chub to his cheeks than his older, more adult counterpart did. His well-fitting clothes were now barely hanging onto his scrawny shoulders and his jeans went well past his ankles and pooled around his feet. Those things combined with the way his hair was longer than the usual inch of length and drooped down across his forehead he looked much younger and as a result, much more innocent looking than Castiel had ever seen him. He had to struggle to not just turn around and forget about dragging the stubborn teen back upstairs to clean up after himself. 

Staying determined he steeled himself for the Winchester to be even more unhappy with the angel than he already was. Dean was glaring at him, all intense green eyes and a pout that he probably didn’t even realize was there, not in a great mood after being interrupted. “You left your dishes on the counter without cleaning up.”

“Yeah, and?” The teen muttered, raising an eyebrow and waving his hand for Castiel to go on. Suddenly it wasn’t as difficult for the angel to pull Dean away from where he was obviously ‘very busy’ sorting through music. Giving him the most unamused expression he could muster he looked down at Dean who tried to stand his ground and stare right back into the his intense blue eyes but felt himself fidgeting nervously under the angel’s scrutiny before finally looking away first.

“And you need to clean up after yourself. Last time I checked the spell didn’t restrict your ability to lift dishes and at least set them in the sink,” Cass folded his arms across his chest and tried to stay strong but at the mention of the curse Dean had flinched and the boy looked visibly upset. However, the parenting books said backing down would just encourage the unwanted behavior and that wasn’t something he wanted at all. Of course, that was all in the two seconds before the human schooled his features into that of annoyed disinterest and hid behind a mask of sarcasm and biting comments. Why he went through such measures just to hide his emotions, Castiel would never understand.

“Me leaving a plate out on the counter isn’t going to end the world, Cass,” he snarked before turning back to the album cover he had discarded when the angel had first entered and picked at it a bit to seem busy. “If it really gets your panties in that much of a bunch then I can just do it later.”

“I’d like for you to do it now, please,” the blue-eyed angel responded firmly. Dean twisted around to look at the angel incredulously. Was he really this upset over a couple of his dishes? 

“I’ll do it later. Chill the fuck out maybe?” he huffed, reaching over to flick the needle back onto the still spinning record but before he could he was blocked by a pair of legs that had swiftly blocked his hand from the turntable. “Cass, move.” Dean gritted out, hands balling into fists as he glared up at him.

“Dishes. Now, Dean,” Castiel commanded, voice leaving no room for argument. Dean hesitated for a moment, going from pissed off and pugnacious to obedient and compliant within a few seconds and it blindsided for him. Maybe it had to do with his dad always ordering him around or that he realized by his friend’s tone that he shouldn’t mess around but before he knew it, he was up and trailing behind Cass towards the kitchen like a lost puppy.

Shaking his head, he sighed at himself and blamed it on the shitty rest he was getting for not putting up more of a fight about this. If he had been getting better sleep then maybe he would have stayed sitting on the cold, uncomfortable cement of the basement floor and tell him to stuff it. Who was Castiel to tell him what to do? It’s not like he’s his dad or something.

By the time they had made it back the kitchen where his very much little brother was chowing down on his breakfast he realized he had been gnawing at his thumbnail the whole way to the kitchen. Wrinkling his nose at his thumb he reached down to wipe it off on his jeans and grunt a greeting to Sam who nodded back in response. 

When Dean just idly stood in the doorway Castiel cleared his throat to get the older Winchester’s attention and once he had it he gave a small nod to the plate still sitting on the counter untouched since it was eaten off of. Sam snorted a laugh and couldn’t help but look from between his older brother and the angel who looked determined to get Dean to wash his dishes. The hunter was about to give his smug little shit of a brother a piece of his mind but not wanting Cass to say or do anything else potentially embarrassing. 

Swiping his dishes up off the kitchen island’s surface he blatantly ignored another muffled giggle behind his he set them in the sink and turned around, glaring at the angel and jutting his thumb towards the door. “There. You happy? Can I go now?”

Castiel was sitting on one of the stools at the island and raised an eyebrow at Dean, giving him a look asking if he really wanted to go through this again. With a melodramatic groan accompanied with Dean throwing up his arms in frustration before turning back to the sink and washing his dishes off before setting them on the drying rack. 

Ready to whirl back around and tear the angel a new one he was met with Cass with a small, barely there smile on his face. The small smiles where as much as the angel ever really cared to show and all plans to start going ape shit flew out the window and instead Dean just felt tired and upset. His friend most have noticed the change in his demeanor because the content look on his face morphed into one of confused concern as he tilted his head to the side. Suddenly the hunter just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep all his problems away. 

Clearing his throat, he backed up towards where he knew the door was and stuck his thumb towards the hallway. “I’m gonna, uh, go to my room,” He muttered, stumbling into the side of the door before turning and practically running off towards his room.

Sam and Cass exchanged a look and the angel just sighed tiredly. Dean had looked upset and Castiel wasn’t the best with emotions but making him clean up his breakfast mess shouldn’t have made him look that dejected.

“I assume you’ll be fine on your own while I go to check on your brother?” The tired angel asked as he pushed his stool back so he could stand back up and follow Dean back to his room. 

“All good here,” Sam mumbled back around a mouthful of pancakes, giving him a thumbs up. At least the current trend was only one of the Winchesters freaking out at a time. Castiel isn’t too sure how well he would fare in a situation where both boys are panicking. He’d read that it’s important to give a child your full attention when they are upset to show you are listening and there for them, something John never could or bothered to attempt.

Standing outside of the shut door to Dean’s bedroom he wondered if he should give Dean sometime to cool down before knocking on the door. Usually when the hunter was upset it was more along the lines of him being angry and intruding before he was calm was a sure-fire way to create more conflicts but Cass wasn’t sure if Dean was upset in that way. 

Figuring he wasn’t getting anything productive done by standing in the hallway and staring into the wood grain of the door like it would put forth an answer, he raised his fist up to rap on the doors a couple of times. It was silent as he waited for the door to swing open or even for a muffled shout for him to leave the teen alone. Just before he was about to knock again he heard shuffling within the room as Dean presumably slipped off of his bed and walked over to open the door.

The older Winchester opening the door and glaring up at Castiel was nearly identical to the way Sam had a couple of days ago when he had come to tell him it was lunch time. The brothers could be quite alike in little ways like the trademark ‘bitch faces’ they pull when things aren’t going their way.

“What do you need, Cass? I cleaned up my mess, what else do you want from me? ‘Cause I’m sure as hell not apologizing,” Dean huffed. Maybe it was the light from the hallway or that the angel was just getting a good look at him now, but the hunter looked absolutely exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes and his slightly longer than usual hair sticking up awkwardly on top where Dean had most likely been unintentionally running his hands through it while thinking.

“I just came to check in on you. You look tired.”

“No shit, Sherlock. How’d you deduce that one?” Dean sighed, crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the door frame which didn’t look nearly as gruff as it did when he was an adult.

“I understand the reference you’re making but I don’t understand how Sherlock relates to me,” Castiel mutters before deciding to gloss over the insult that had gone right over his head. “You seem upset. Maybe if you were to get some more sleep then you would feel better?” He suggested, trying to be helpful while not overstepping the boundaries Dean fervently enforced. So far it looked like he was doing a good job since he wasn’t yelling for Cass to fuck off.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been getting more sleep than I usually do,” The disgruntled human said exasperatedly, unfolding his arms and throwing them up in frustration. “This stupid curse makes it so we have to sleep every night or suffer through what I’d imagine being ran over by a steam roller is like until we eventually pass out or you take pity and knock us out. I don’t need any more sleep.”

“Then why are you so tired?” Cass had to resist the urge to smirk triumphantly seeing as how he’d managed to box Dean into a corner with that response. The defiance so clearly written across the hunter’s face faltered slightly.

“It hasn’t been the most restful sleep I’ve gotten but it’s still sleep.” Was Dean’s weak argument to his friend’s question.

“I’m not sure quantity over quality works in this situation, Dean. Why don’t you try sleeping right now?”

“What, take a nap like a little fucking kid?” Dean spat, squinting up at Castiel like he was a madman for suggesting anything that might remotely help him. “No fucking thanks. I’ll pass.” Hand on the edge of the door he stepped back, getting ready to close the door in the taller’s face. However, Cass took the advantage of Dean stepping out of the door’s frame to step in, stopping him from being able to close the door.

“Twenty minutes is all I ask of you,” He cut to the chase, replacing the look of annoyance on the blonde’s face switch to one of begrudging curiosity. “Just lay down for twenty minutes and if you don’t fall asleep then I’ll cease bothering you about getting more rest.”

After a brief pause, Dean nodded his head. “Alright. After I’m done sitting here for twenty minutes you’ll leave me the fuck alone?”

“If.”

“When,” he muttered as he made his way over to the twin bed in the middle of his room. He kicked off his work boots easily, seeing as how they were now several sizes too big. Then he flopped down stomach first onto the memory foam mattress, sighing in a way that certainly sounded much more exhausted than the Winchester was alluding to. Castiel sat down in the wooden chair next to the bed and couldn’t help but feel triumphant that his plan was in effect. The angel estimated it would be about ten minutes maximum before Dean was out cold.

Once he was finished wriggling on top of his bed, searching for a comfy position Dean finally noticed the angel across the room staring at him. “I thought angels didn’t actually do the creepy, ‘watch over you in your sleep’ thing in real life?”

“Just insurance that you won’t try and cheat on our little bet,” Cass would definitely not put it past Dean to try something sneaky to get out of the contest.

“I’m not gonna weasel out of our bet, Cass. What kinda guy do you take me for?” Castiel immediately shot Dean a look that questioned if he REALLY wanted him to answer that honestly. “Alright, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything-”

“How do I know that you aren’t going to Vulcan mind-meld me in my sleep, huh?” Dean interrupted, not bothering to fill in any of the blanks he was leaving behind for the angel. “What’s stopping you from just knocking me out with your angel powers?”

“I’m going to honor our agreement. Now stop stalling and close your eyes,” Castiel rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair and waited for the green eyes staring into his to lid over. Reluctantly, the teen did close his eyes, too tired to argue on the matter any further. Now that he was laying down he remembered how comfortable his bed really was. So much better than cheap, dingy motel mattresses that smelled rank as all get out and the bedsprings that screeched in protest whenever you moved. 

Castiel ended up being wrong. It was only around five minutes before Dean was dead to the world and snoring softly as he snuggled his face into the pillow he had his arms wrapped around. Once he had the blankets gently tugged from underneath the snoozing boy he tucked them up around his shoulders and walked back to the kitchen to see what Sam was up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to those who commented on the last chapter, thank you SO FUCKIN MUCH!!! those comments make me so happy and y'all are the best. You guys are what's keeping me writing! I get discouraged a whole lot because I'm not confident in my writing abilities (You can probably tell with how often i switch perspectives and past/pre/future tenses) and sometimes I'm not sure how to write things, like running out of ideas and thinking of ways to get from point A to point B but you guys really motivate me. So thank you!!!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!!!! I know i said this last chapter but all the comments you guys leave really make my day!! I got SO MANY comments last chapter and I know i sound stupid but i freaked out about all of them. Y'all keep me motivated and i appreciate it so much!
> 
> But uh,, , This chapter ran away from me, hhh. I had a basic outline and this shit went in every which way before it actually got to the plot of the chapter. So, I mean, I hope you like it but idk

By the time Castiel was yet again back to the kitchen, Sam had already finished up his breakfast and had cleaned up his mess. Thank God for that, one less battle for him to fight. Glancing into the extra room in the bunker that the boys had turned into a living room of sorts he saw Sam busy playing a different videogame than from a few days before. An adventure game if he had to guess by the small hero at the bottom of the screen running in circles. 

Taking a good look at the boy he noticed that the clothes that had fit him well a couple of days ago were starting to get baggy yet again. Which brought up the fact that Dean’s clothes were loose on him as well. Cass had figured that neither boy wanted to go shopping again, seeing how well that went last time but it was starting to look like he didn’t have choice if he wanted the boys to stay comfortable. He had just been planning on taking some of Sam’s clothes and giving them to Dean. 

“So, Dean all good?” The brunette muttered, somewhat distracted as he shot an arrow at what the angel assumed was an antagonist in the game. Castiel walked to the couch from where he had been standing in the doorway, lost in thought.

“I assume he’s just stressed about what’s going on and that paired with the inferior quality of the sleep you two are receiving was just a bit too overwhelming. That with the newly found hormonal changes?” Castiel explained, watching the character dressed in green smash vases which seemed pointlessly destructive. Could he not just tilt the pot over to get the gems that resided inside of them? “He just needed a rest, I think,”

“That managed to get a sound of disbelief out of Sam. “You managed to make Dean take a nap? Just how tired was he??”

“Tired enough to not put up much of a struggle. I had to make a bet with him just to get him to quit being so stubborn about this,” He muttered, a small, fond smile on his face.

“What was the bet?”

“If you can lay down for twenty minutes then I’ll leave you alone.”

“How long did he last?”

“Almost five minutes,” That made Sam bust out laughing, keeping the avatar on the screen from dodging a blow by yet another enemy and zapping one of the small hearts on the small section in the corner labeled heart out of existence. Another thing he didn’t 100% understand was seeing as how the character looked human enough besides the pointed ears but Cass was positive that humans didn’t have three hearts. Despite his confusion he just chuckled along with Sam.

The small hunter now refocused on his video game, collecting a heart that popped out of yet another smashed pot before he ran out of hearts. (Another thing Castiel was confused about.) “Well, I gotta hand it to you, Cass. I’m impressed you managed to get Dean to do anything remotely close to take care of himself. Even I have troubles with that kind of thing.” The angel all but preened under the praise, realizing for the first time since he got Dean asleep that he had gotten THE Dean Winchester to take a nap. It really was a feat to get someone as stubborn as him to do anything he didn’t want to.

“In his defense, He really was exhausted. I’m sure you both are,” Castiel mumbled, watching as Sam finally won the battle that had been occurring over the duration of their conversation. It was silent except for the sounds of the background music of the game and the character’s occasional sound effects. Silent up until Cass finally cleared his throat and brought up something he knew would put a damper on Sam’s good mood. “I think it would be in you and your brother’s best interest to get better fitting clothes. I figured once Dean wakes up we could go to the store.”

Pausing his videogame, Sam turned around to give the angel a seriously unamused look to express his displeasure. “What? You already got clothes. I don’t want to go shopping again!”

“With Dean not fitting his clothes I assumed he could just borrow some of yours but it looks like yours don’t fit you either,” Castiel explained, whether or not the boy would listen to him was debatable. “Besides, I’m not sure if last time really counted as you going shopping. I seem to recall you and a certain older brother of yours sitting on a bench out front while I picked out the clothing?” He raised his brow at a now sheepish looking Sam.

“It’s not like I’m going to willingly go into store and shop for kids’ clothes. Even more so now that I look like an actual kid, Cass!”

“You do realize that nobody is going to look at you and immediately deduce that up until a few weeks ago you were a thirty-two-year-old man? As long as you don’t outright say that you’re not really a kid nothing will go wrong,” Castiel huffed out a small laugh. “Even then I don’t think anybody would even believe you.” That managed to silence his arguments. He could see Sam wracking his brain for any other reason why they shouldn’t go and Cass had to hold back another laugh when he came up with nothing and heaved a heavy sigh before turning back to glare at the TV and resume his video game.

One stubborn Winchester to deal with down, one more to go. When said Winchester woke up of course, which didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon so instead he just sat back and watched as Sam dragged his avatar through a forest-type terrain.

\----- 

It was a couple of hours later when Dean trudged out of his bedroom, hair sticking up at about fifty different angles and looking lost. When he made his way into the kitchen where Sam and Cass were cleaning up after a late lunch (seeing as how they lost track of time watching video games) Sam couldn’t help but snort at his disheveled looking brother.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. You’re just jealous that I got to sleep in and you got stuck cleaning up the dishes,” he grumbled, voice croaking from disuse. Sam rolled his eyes at his older brother.

“Dude, you look like you slept through the apocalypse,” The younger boy snickered, glancing down at Dean’s messed up clothing. Not that Sam would let Cass know willingly but they really did need to go clothes shopping. If it wasn’t for the flannel Dean had tossed on over his t-shirt he was sure that his shoulder would have straight up popped out of the neck hole. But Sam would graciously leave the privilege of telling Dean Winchester he had to go shop in the junior section of a public department store for his best friend Castiel. 

Speaking of their angel friend, he was currently pulling a plate with food on it out of the fridge and sliding it across the kitchen island to where Dean had sat down. “We were not sure when you would be waking up so we made you a plate,” It was just a sandwich but with the way Dean’s face lit up at it you’d think it was a four-course meal you set in front of him.

“Ah, hell yeah, Cass. Thanks, man,” he had the manners to mumble before digging into his food like he hadn’t eaten in days. As Dean groaned around his first bite Sam wrinkled his nose at his big brother’s mannerisms.

“It’s not gonna run away from you, Dean. You don’t have to eat like somebody’s going to take it away from you,” the younger Winchester rolled his eyes before drying off the last of the plates and putting it away in the cabinet with the others.

“S’good!” Was all Sam received in response. Leaning back against the counter he glanced over to Castiel who looked about as nervous as angels got. It took a lot of effort not to laugh as Cass searched the kitchen for something to clean or fiddle with to try and delay the inevitable. While it was fun to see the normally stoic, composed angel picking at the buttons on his coat sleeves Sam took pity, knowing that things probably sounded better coming out of Dean’s favorite little brother’s mouth.

“I’m really getting tired of wearing clothes that are way too big on me,” he huffed, grabbing Castiel’s attention from where he had been pacing behind a Dean who didn’t have much lunch left. The angel immediately shot him a grateful look over the teen’s shoulder.

“Well hopefully we’ll be fixed before this escalates any further and then problem solved,” He muttered around a mouthful of sandwich, only half paying attention to the conversation. Sam rolled his eyes at his incredibly dense brother. 

“Yeah, well we’ve been saying that almost all month long, Dean. You barely fit in your clothes!” The brunette muttered gesturing at Dean’s feet where his jeans cover them almost completely except for the tips of his toes.

“it’s fine, Sammy. Rowena should be ready with her spell any day now,” he grunted.

“We’re going to the store with Cass as soon as you’re done with lunch,” Sam put it bluntly, folding his scrawny arms against his chest. That managed to gain Dean’s full attention, even if it’s to glare at his kid brother.

“Cute, Sammy,” he huffed, sitting up straight from where he had been hunched over his plate. “but that’s not going to happen. I’m not gonna go into a fucking store and pick out clothes meant for a teenager.” Sensing an argument would only deter Dean from agreeing to go to the store even more, Sam whipped out the puppy dog eyes. The sad eyes, as it would seem, worked a million times better when he had a chubby little kid face to match. If Dean immediately sighing and tearing his eyes away was indicative of anything. Sam was cracking him.

“You think I want to go look for clothes meant for an eleven year old?” Sam mumbled, accompanying the phrase with a shy look down at his feet and a slight pout. As much as he acted oblivious to the fact that he had a killer kicked puppy face he knew how to play that card in his favor all too well. Another long, dramatic sigh from his brother that slowly turned into a groan towards the end as he slumped over the counter and Sam knew he had Dean right where he wanted him. 

“Whatever, Sam. I’m going to go try and find a pair of jeans that’ll fit me,” he huffed, stuffing the rest of his sandwich into his mouth as he slid off the stool and carried his now empty plate to rest in the sink until somebody found the time to clean them.

Soon as Dean was out of the room Castiel sighed heavily and gave a small smile to the young Winchester. “I appreciate what you did greatly. That would not have been so easy if I were to ask him seeing as how I’ve already been what he would call a ‘hardass’ more than I would have liked to today,” the angel muttered as he slipped out of his trench coat and suit jacket and set them aside. “I know it may seem like a waste of your time and a boring usage of the credit card frauds you and you brother make, but I have no idea when Rowena’s going to be able to bring us the cure.” 

Although he does hope it happens soon, the angel added in his own head. While the Winchesters most certainly deserve a second shot at childhood, if they get too young Castiel isn’t sure how well he’d be able to care for them. 

“I’m tired of how awkward this is,” Sam mutters, slumping back against the counter edge next to the sink. “Just getting this shopping trip over as fast as possible is better than agonizing over it.” 

\-----

Dean was agonizing over it. He stared down at the dwindling pile of clean clothes left in the tiny laundry room in the bunker. There was no way he could go out in public wearing the jeans he had on now, he tripped on every other step and looked ridiculous having to tug them up around his scrawny hips constantly seeing as how he was too small for even his tightest of belts. What if they ran into a demon when they were out? Some supernatural creature or other? 

He couldn’t do his job in these clothes. The only other option, however, was Sam’s clothes which might be the smallest bit too snug on him but would be a world better than the outfit he was wearing currently. It was a matter of swallowing his pride and putting on the damn teen clothes. What should’ve have been literally as easy as tugging them on became a much bigger seeming matter of no longer being able to deny the fact that he was physically fifteen years old right now. He should just put the outfit on as quick as possible and proceed to act like there was nothing weird about this but it felt like the huge, nasty feelings he’d been holing away in his chest since this started was just getting amplified by being a fucking teenager of all things and to his horror he just wanted to sit down and cry.

But this was Dean Winchester and Dean Winchester doesn’t do gross, girly emotions so he stepped out of his too large clothing and tugged the better fitting pair of jeans and t-shirt on and busted out of the laundry room before he had the chance to think about it anymore. After taking a quick detour to his room to grab a canvas jacket to throw on top of his shirt he made his way to the library where Castiel and Sam were waiting. 

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother like he was asking what took Dean so long to get dressed and Cass was looking at him like he already knew why. Not able to take the angel’s pitying looks he ducked his head down and kept an even stride to the door to the garage grunting out a quick “let’s go,” as he passed by the two. 

Thinking he would get his mind off all this by speeding down the usually deserted highway in his baby he smiled to himself as he dug the keys for the Impala out of his jacket pocket when Sam cleared his throat somewhere behind him. Dean glanced over his shoulder at him. “What?”

“You’re not old enough to drive yet Dean,” Sam spoke up, almost looking a little sorry, like he could tell how excited Dean was to go driving and hadn’t wanted to ruin his fun.

“Oh, come on!” Dean threw his arms up in exasperation. “I’m not really fifteen! I can drive my damn car.”

“Yeah, well if we get pulled over and you have to show a cop your license that states you should be a thirty-six year old, grown ass man what are you going to do then?” Sam huffed, annoyed to be arguing with his older brother again. “Can your feet even reach the pedals?” Dean glared over at his little brother and contemplated how easy it would be to lunge over and tackle him.

“I still remember how to drive my fucking car, Sam,” Dean practically growled in response, hands curled into fists at his sides. He looked over to Castiel for support on this one but all he got back was another pitying look which meant that he wasn’t going to be driving. “Fuckin-whatever! But if I’m not driving then we’re taking a different car ‘cause there ain’t no way in hell I’m letting Cass drive Baby.” The disgruntled teen huffed as he shoved the keys to his Chevy back into the pocket of his jacket and folding his arms against his chest.

The small group walked the short distance across the garage to where the angel’s god-awful Lincoln Continental sat. When Dean spotted Sam standing by the passenger side door, waiting for Castiel to unlock the car, he considered it his personal mission to give his little brother a taste of his own medicine. Watching Castiel briefly wander off to the small desk in the garage to where they kept the keys for the car he decided to make his move. Hip checking him out of the way he sent a glare down at the scrawny boy. 

“You’ve got to be twelve to sit in the front seat and last time I checked when I was fifteen you were eleven. In the back,” He ordered, receiving a heated glare back from Sam as he tried to shove the taller out of the way.

“I can pass as a twelve-year-old and there’s no way anybody can disprove that I’m not,” Sam hissed back, pushing his brother a few feet to the side with his shoulder. “Besides it’s really more of a weight thing, anyways.” The brunette muttered triumphantly as he gripped the handle to the Lincoln as if that was the end of it and he had won. 

Normally Dean would have just backed off about now and just sulk for the entire car ride but something about how his day was going had him just getting angrier and trying to slam the other Winchester out of the way again. “If it’s a weight thing then you definitely shouldn’t sit in the front!”

“You dick!” Sam grunted as he tried to body slam his brother to the ground. Which, of course, progressed into both of them yelling and cursing and tugging at each other, fighting to get to the passenger door first. That was until Cass finally found the keys for his pimpmobile and jogged back over to the car and pulling the wrestling boys apart by the backs of their jackets. 

“Both of you!” He shouted, giving the both of them a cold glare that reminded both of the hunters that Castiel wasn’t just some awkward, socially inept buddy of theirs but very much a powerful angel that could kick both their asses. Both of them quiet now, alternating between sending occasional glares at each other and giving nervous glances at the fuming angel holding them by their collars. “I would sit you both in the back if I didn’t think you two would tear each other apart. Do either of you have a legitimate reason for why you were at each other’s throats??” Cass asked, voice low in a way that left no room for argument.

There was a brief moment of silence while both boys paused to collect their testimonies. Dean spoke up first, “Sam started this whole thing by telling me I couldn’t drive just because I’m fifteen. Since when have we been rule followers anyways?” he spat the last part out with a glare at Sam. “Then he goes and thinks he’s gonna be the one in the front seat? I don’t fuckin’ think so.”

“You getting angry and cussing isn’t helping your case, Dean,” Sam muttered, crossing his arms and eyeing his brother one more time before smiling innocently up at Cass. “Sitting in the front seat is more of a weight-slash-strength issue. I’m basically twelve so it shouldn’t matter if I’m sitting in the front or the back.”

“Then why don’t you just sit in the back then?” Dean interrupted, stepping closer despite the vice grip still on his coat. 

“I’m not sitting in the back!” Sam grunted, taking a step forward again. Rolling his eyes Castiel yanked both of them back yet again with a sigh.

“Sam, I know this may not be what you want to hear but you are a slightly smaller than average child and it would be safest for you to sit in the backseat,” he broke the news in a much gentler voice than he had used to get the hunters to stop their scuffle, knowing that Sam wouldn’t like what he was saying at all. Sam went from angry and growling to reluctantly understanding (while still upset) and quiet in seconds. Letting go of the smaller boy’s collar and patting him on the back he turned to Dean who was grinning triumphantly and gave another gentle tug on his jacket to get his attention. The angel’s face, which had softened to talk to Sam hardened once more as he faced the more stubborn of the Winchesters. 

Castiel waited for Sam to climb inside the car before turning back to Dean. “I understand you’re having a rough day and that it’s easy to take it out on your little brother but if you could refrain from doing so I would greatly appreciate it,” the words themselves seemed harmless but in the strict tone he used it was almost a direct command. Letting go of the teen he made his way to the driver’s door. “You may sit in the passenger seat if only to keep you from pestering your brother any further.” 

“Who do you think you are? You’re not my fuckin’ dad,” Dean grumbled under his breath. Which was true but it didn’t make Castiel feel like any less of a caretaker after having to stop them from killing each other.

\-----

Standing in the check-out line to the small department store Castiel couldn’t help but feel utterly relieved that this whole endeavor was over. 

To start off the thrilling trip as soon as they parked it took almost five minutes to get Dean out of the car which was ironic seeing as much shit he gave the poor Lincoln Continental. Even Sam had sucked it up and got out of the car which the boy had no trouble using that as ammunition to get his bull-headed brother out of the damn passenger seat.

Once out of the car Dean then insisted that Sam get his clothes first and reluctantly trailed three feet behind the angel and his younger brother at all times, trudging along like his feet were made of molasses. The older Winchester was sorely disappointed when Sam just shoved the first three plain outfits he came across into the cart and announced he was done a few minutes after even coming into the store. It was an improvement from him just hiding at the front of the store so Cass would take what he could get. 

Then it was time for Dean to take the spotlight and go pick out clothes which, for someone who fights monsters on a regular basis and faces much uglier things then the junior section of a clothing store, should have been easy. The blonde made it seem more like pulling teeth. First, he refused to move until Sam started shoving at him and Dean got frustrated enough to snap at his little brother that he could walk on his own. That statement ended up roping him into having to walk to the teen clothes and he let out a string of curses under his breath as he moped over to the racks of graphic t-shirts.

It took almost ten full minutes to force Dean to pick out clothes and even then, Sam shoved half the stuff in there while his older brother stood, nearly glued to Castiel’s side like somehow that would protect him from the evil clothing.

Safe to say, Cass was relieved when they finally paid for their things and headed back out to the car. As soon as they stepped foot out of the store Sam groaned loudly and threw his arms out to his sides.

“Finally! God, Dean, you’re such a big baby!” The brunette muttered grumpily but he couldn’t help the small grin that quirked up as he peered around to the other side of their angel friend at his supposedly ‘big brother’ who was basically pouting.

“Yeah, whatever, Sam. I felt weird in there, like somebody was watching me,” Dean muttered, face heating up as he pointed his green eyes straight ahead of him as they approached the Continental.

The younger Winchester let out another exaggerated groan. “Really, Dean? Nobody cares about some teenage boy picking out clothes. You don’t need to be so paranoid.” 

Dean shifted uncomfortably and glanced over his shoulder. The parking lot was pretty much empty besides another person walking along the cars on the opposite side. It was a pretty nondescript looking guy, tall and stocky with dark hair and a pair of dark shades on. With a snort, the green-eyed hunter rolled his eyes. Only douchebags wore sunglasses on an overcast day like today and when he had seen the same man in the store he had been wearing the dumb aviators in there too. Something uneasy clicked inside his head. This guy didn’t have any bags with him and maybe that didn’t mean anything, maybe he just didn’t find anything worth buying but it was better safe than sorry.

Dean leaned over, tugging on the sleeve of Castiel’s trench coat and mumbling a quick, “Hey, does that dude over there seem creepy to you?” and being the master of subtleness, Cass just straight up turned his head to look at Shades McDouchebag. The teen could see the way his friend tensed up before facing forward again, they finally arrived at the car and Cass took his keys and pressed them into Dean’s hand, looking down at the human with a cool, calm façade.

“You and your brother get in the car. I’ll handle this,” He muttered, about to turn and by the looks of it, ready to shake his angel blade down out of his sleeve before Dean tugged him back by his arm.

“What is it?” he asked, trying to force his voice to sound more like his normal gruff self and less of the cracking, high-pitched mess of a voice that accompanied this body. “I’m not just gonna sit here and wait, I’m a hunter.”

“A demon and yes, you are going to sit and wait in the car. Even if you happen to have the demon blade with you aren’t quite in the best form to be fighting a grown man with demon powers and I’m not going to wa-” Castiel was cut off as by a loud yelp from Sam who was now being incapacitated in a headlock from none other than the dick with shades who had made his way across the street while the two were arguing.

“You know, I thought it was weird that the Winchester’s favorite pet was wandering around with two kids,” the guy smirked like he was about to deliver the punchline of the joke. “but who would have thought that these two kids are really your Winchesters!” Dean balled his fists up at his sides, already tired of this douche bag’s Disney villain rant. “Not that I’m complaining, really. Funsized hunters are much easier to kill.”

Dean glanced down to the hold the demon had around Sam’s neck and had to hold back from laughing at how loose it was, the chump obviously used to holding back somebody twice the size of an eleven year old. Sam had apparently come to the same conclusion because he was staring back to his big brother with a determined look on his face. With a short nod Sam had slipped out from under his arm and kicked at the demon’s legs as hard as he could, managing to throw his balance off enough that when Dean lunged out at the guy, thank god cutting off the guy’s annoying monologue and slamming the back his head onto the asphalt.

Cass immediately tugged Sam behind him and yelled out Dean’s name, quickly approaching to try and move him away from the demon before something worse happened. It was just his luck when the demon recovered quickly and threw the teen off him and slamming him into a car a few feet away like it was nothing. Somewhere behind him he could hear Sam calling out for his brother and running over to him but Castiel was busy dragging the heathen who just tossed his best friend across a parking lot up by his shirt and pressing two fingers against his forehead and smiting the fucker.

Dropping the charred corpse at his feet the angel immediately ran over to where Sam was kneeling down by his brother who was groaning in pain. Normally a hit like that would wind him and maybe break a rib or two but Dean would be back and at ‘em like it was nothing but that was thirty-six-year-old Dean. The fifteen-year-old in front of him was much more out of it than that, blood dripping down his chin from where he must have bit his tongue during the impact. The angel lifted two fingers to his forehead and was able to survey the damage which was more than a couple of ribs broke and lots of bruising. 

It was an awful surprise to be halfway through healing his injuries to find the curse prohibiting him from healing him further than fixing all his ribs except for one. The curse seemed to be slowly growing in strength as it raged on throughout the weeks and where Castiel had been able to fix Dean’s stab wound the night the spell was casted he was only barely able to heal half of Dean’s injuries now. Sighing in frustration he carefully lifted up Dean, earning a pained grunt from the teen as a few tears rolled down his face that the angel was sure Dean wasn’t aware of because he just muttered a half-hearted protest for Cass to put him down.

Meanwhile, Sam was freaking out. “What are you doing? Just heal him? Why aren’t you healing him?” He bombarded him with questions as he followed him back to the Lincoln.

“It’s the curse. It’s keeping me from fully healing your brother, but I managed to fix the worst of it,” Castiel muttered as he delicately placed Dean into the backseat of the car.

“What?!” Sam yelled, running his hand through his shaggy hair nervously as he stared up at the angel. With a soft sigh Cass turned to the restless boy and placed a hand on this shoulder. 

“He’ll be alright. We’re going back to bunker and he can rest there and be back to normal in a day or two. You need to calm down, alright?” Castiel tried to keep his voice as calm and even as possible despite internally battling with the feeling of helplessness that was becoming a permanent accompaniment to being associated with the Winchesters. It seemed to work a little bit as Sam took a deep breath and nodded, going to the other side of the car so he could sit in the back seat with his brother. It was going to be a long ride home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the last chapter for a little bit and I'm real sorry about that. Starting camp next week and i'm not sure how much time I'll have to write. This summer is actually looking to be busier than i thought it would be since some stuff has come up, but I'll try to write!!
> 
> (also this isn't definite but I may be writing some Summer one shots too if i ever find time)


End file.
